Sleepless in Tokio
by CatzRuleMe
Summary: Horrible things start happening to Tokio Hotel, and it might be the end of the band as they know it. But when Bill starts having strange dreams about a girl he has yet to meet, could he possibly have found the answer to saving his band?
1. Meeting

**Chapter 1**

It was all wrong.

The faces were wrong, the hair was wrong, the clothes were wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I couldn't draw a picture to save my life, but I had never been more embarrassed. It was a picture of my favorite guys: the twins from Tokio Hotel, lying in my sketchbook outlined heavily in pencil. Age had smeared some of said outline around the page, but I was always armed with an eraser to fix it. I didn't know why, though, because it was completely wrong. Sure, their signatures were there, appearing as huge wavy lines across their corresponding shirts. But being written with pen, it was there to stay. The moving, smearing paper didn't stand a chance. I could've very well just let the horrid pictures be blotched out into a pool of graphite with nothing left but my guys' autographs standing out against the mess.

But they liked it.

That's all that kept me from letting the drawing die. Their real-life counterparts gave it so much positive feedback that I just had to keep it in good shape. That, and it was my strongest memory of the one time I actually got to meet Bill Kaulitz.

It happened two years ago when the band were on tour in the US. They were performing just a few miles away from my college, so my Tokio Hotel-crazy dorm partner Christie dragged me over. I wasn't a fan of the band's music back then; I had just found a picture of the two hottest members on the internet and drawn it out. When there was a news leak that Tokio Hotel was performing close by, Christie convinced me to take the drawing so they could sign it. I wasn't fully in on the idea, but I went anyway.

The stadium was roaring with screaming fans when four guys had appeared onstage. A guy playing the bass had long brown hair, while another guy playing drums had short blond hair. I thought the boy with the brown dreadlocks playing the guitar was kind of cute, but my heart skipped a beat when I saw the lead singer at the front. He wore all black: black shirt, black jacket, black skinny jeans, black shoes…and his long hair stuck outward like a giant black pompom.

Christie pointed toward the black beauty and shouted: "See, Holly? That's Bill Kaulitz, the one I told you about. Isn't he hot?"

"Very," I admitted. "I can't wait for him to sign this drawing." I clutched my sketchpad tighter and tighter in my hand, as if I were suddenly worried that it would slip away from me.

I stared in awe at Bill the entire rest of the concert. I didn't know if it was just my imagination, but I could have sworn Bill was looking at me. I couldn't be sure since his head was forward most of the time, but the black hottie seemed to be eyeing me. My heart started fluttering when he twitched his eyes. Was he _winking_ at me? Even if he was, how was I so sure that it was me and not Christie or some girl behind us?

The concert was over. The songs were finished. The music had died and allowed the screaming crowd to take over. The band made their way across the red carpet, glancing warily from side to side as their loud, unruly fans shrieked excitedly at them, contained only by a metal fence like the wild animals they were.

They obliged when it came to signing autographs, so I quickly flipped my sketchpad open to the drawing of Bill and Tom and held it out as far as I could reach. Bill caught sight of it and took it in his hands.

"Whahs dis?" The man spoke with a thick German accent, but it was the most beautiful sound I had heard in a long time.

"It's a drawing of you and Tom," I replied.

Bill smiled, but I could tell it wasn't just a polite smile; it was one of compassion and interest. He turned to Tom, who was being swallowed by the arms of about seven excited fangirls. "Tom!"

Bill's brother eventually managed to pull away from the girls and make his way over. When he saw the picture, he nodded in approval. "Nice."

"Ca' we sign it?" Bill asked.

"Yeah," I replied. "That's kinda why I brought it."

The hot singer took out a pen and waved it around on my sketchpad, then passed it to Tom who did the same. When the boy with the dreadlocks handed me back my drawing, signatures had been scribbled over the shirts of the guys in my picture.

A large man that looked like a security guard yelled something at the band members, but I didn't quite catch it. Bill yelled something back in German, then turned back to me. "Vell, ve huv to leave soon. Vut's your name?"

"Holly," I replied.

Bill's smile widened. "I 'ope to see you again, Holly. Vill you be at our next concert?"

I sighed doubtfully. "Well, school's been getting in the way, unfortunately. I'll come see you guys if I can, but I don't know how long till then."

Bill leaned in close to me. "Vell, I promise you I'll find eh way to see you again. Someday, ve'll meet again. I svear by it."

My heart was thudding as if it were trying to escape my chest. What was he talking about? He planned to _see_ me again? I had to say something, but all I could think of was: "I'm not sure what my schedule is like, but I promise I'll try to see you again."

The singer was smiling so big it looked like it was trying to rip his face open. He touched my hand, which rested on the metal railing, and muttered: "It's a promise. Ve'll meet again."

Which brings me to today, two years later, sitting in a stuffy airplane on my way to Germany. My picture of the twins stared back at me as I touched up some unneeded gray splotches around Bill's hair. It had been so long since that promise had been made, and Bill couldn't possibly have remembered me. But I was going to their next concert anyway, because I promised I would.

_I promised_, I told myself. _I promised we'd meet again_.


	2. Journey

**Chapter 2**

-Holly Wainright-

When I stumbled half-asleep out of the plane, I felt like I was in a different atmosphere completely. Just about everything was in German, which made the signs and advertisements look like a mess of letters. Back home it would be around midnight, but the sky sent the light of morning filtering in through the massive windows.

I got a coffee from Starbuck's, but it felt like I would need a Red Bull to keep me awake. The plane ride wasn't all that pleasant; I only got three hours of sleep. And it didn't help that the six-hour time difference would cause a major adjustment in my schedule.

Getting through the airport was like trying to solve a maze. There were stores and boarding stations and customs in every direction, and I was relying solely on symbols to tell where I was going. But eventually I found the baggage claim, and passed through security soon after. Most of what happened was a blur in my sleepy state, but eventually I made it outside where I got a taxi.

"Gud day," greeted the German cab driver. "Vere ah ve going?"

"Sonnige Tage Hotel," I replied.

"A' you heeah to see Toki 'Otel?"

"Uh, yeah." I was taken aback. How did he know what I was here for? Were a lot of Americans coming to see Tokio Hotel? Had it become such a huge deal that people from all over were flocking to Germany for them?

My head was swimming in images of the band the entire ride to the hotel. At first I wasn't so sure that I should come all the way to Germany just to see some guy who told me to meet him somewhere. But there was something in the way Bill looked at me—I couldn't tell if it was affection or desperation, or possibly a mix of the two. And when the spring break had arrived when I had finally saved up enough money for such a trip, there was no way I could dismiss the opportunity.

When I checked into the hotel, I rode elevators and weaved through corridors until I found my room. I tossed my bags on the bed and watched them bounce slightly as the mattress squeaked in surprise. As tempting as it seemed to just flop onto the bed spread and fall asleep, I knew I had to readjust to Europe time if it meant staying awake all day.

I heard the familiar sound of my ringtone, and I dug my cell phone out of my purse. The caller ID told me that my dorm partner was calling. I flipped it open and greeted: "Hey, Christie."

"Hey," Christie replied. Did your flight come in okay?"

"Yeah," I answered. "I just got to the hotel."

"Oh my god, I'm so jealous," Christie whined. "How come you get to see Tokio Hotel? I've always been a bigger fan."

"I have to repay Bill," I reminded her. "You were there when he said he wanted to see me."

"That's not fair; I'm the bigger fan!" Christie exclaimed. "Doesn't that count for something?"

We both laughed, then I reassured her: "I really don't think it's anything big, even if he does remember the promise he made me two years ago."

"Still, you're one lucky girl, Holly Wainright. Most girls would kill to have Bill Kaulitz say something like that to them."

I grunted, amused, then unzipped my suitcase and took out my drawing of Bill and his twin brother Tom. Their signatures were still there, as clear as the day they first signed it. "Christie, do you think Bill will remember me? I mean, he must have seen other girls and forgotten all about me."

"You don't know till you try," Christie replied.

It was around 3 pm the next day when my nerves were filled with tension and my muscles shook with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. It was the day Tokio Hotel was performing at the nearby theater. My hands shook as they wrapped around my sketchbook; I was itching to see Bill again.

But I had to force myself not to get excited. There was no way Bill Kaulitz could remember a girl he met once two years ago. I suddenly wondered if this trip had all been for nothing.

_No_, I told myself. _I came here for something. Even if I have to _make_ it for something_.

"Let's hear it for TOKIO HOTEL!"

A chorus of screaming louder than I thought humanly possible erupted when four men ran out onstage. For a split second, I could have sworn I was at the wrong concert; Tokio Hotel had changed so much over the last two years. Tom no longer had dreadlocks; instead he sported black braids, bound inside a white headband. Gustav wore large, black-framed glasses. Bill's long black hair no longer resembled a giant pompom, but rather a huge Mohawk.

I couldn't help but join in with the screaming fan girls, although I felt ridiculous doing it. But it did get Bill's attention. When he skipped over to the part of the stage closest to me, I swear he was looking right at me. As he sung his song about a monsoon, there was a twinkle of familiarity in his eyes. But I couldn't be sure if it was directed towards me.

_Don't get excited_, I told myself. _Just try to catch him afterword. But even if he does recognize me after all these years, what could possibly happen_?


	3. Dreams

**Chapter 3**

-Bill Kaulitz-

I saw her. I finally saw her.

Two years I had been waiting to see her again. For half of my career in the band, I'd had dreams of a long, brown-haired girl about my age. Each dream was different, but I started to see patterns.

Although it was three years before, I still remembered the first dream I had of this girl. I walked into the living room, where Georg and Gustav sat. Georg was eyeing his friend with a look of confusion, and when I looked back at Gustav I realized that he was looking around with his mouth duct-taped shut.

"Uh, Gustav?" I muttered. "You have duct tape on your mouth."

The blond drummer looked at me with a look of panic on his face, and suddenly started grunting and squirming uncomfortably; it reminded me of a hostage in a movie.

I looked at Georg, but he just stared helplessly at his best friend rather than helping him. So I strode over to Gustav, saying: "Hang on, Gustav. I got it." But when I tried to dig my long fingernails under the tape and pull it off, I found that I couldn't. "Hang on," I grunted as I desperately started yanking on the duct tape. But no amount of strength could rip the binding on my friend's lips. Then Gustav started squealing in pain, thrashing his legs and kicking my shins. I staggered backward in defeat.

"I got it."

I whirled around to see a slender girl with long, flowing, golden-brown hair standing behind me; I hadn't noticed her there before. She walked confidently over to Gustav and snatched the duct tape from his face like it was nothing, and he didn't even flinch.

"Thanks," Gustav said, smiling gratefully.

I had another dream just a few weeks later with the mystery girl. I didn't remember much of that dream, but the part that stood out was when Georg walked into the kitchen, tripped and fell belly-first onto the linoleum. Typical Georg; always clumsy and tripping over himself.

But I became worried when he wouldn't get back up, and started moaning in pain.

"Georg!" I exclaimed. "Are you alright?" I grabbed his wrist to help him back up, but he was cold as ice and limp as a sack of potatoes. When the moaning died to an eerie silence, I dropped my friend's arm in shock. "Georg? Georg!" My breathing quickened in panic; Georg was dead! How did this happen? There must have been something I missed.

"Calm down, Bill."

I gasped in shock as tears started to crawl down my cheeks. I whipped my head to the side and saw that same girl with the long brown hair looking at me in sympathy. Quickly she lowered to a squat in front of Georg's motionless body and touched his hands, wrapping her fingers around his wrists. "It's okay, Georg. I saved you. You're alive."

To my amazement, my long-haired friend stirred and let the girl hoist him to a stand. He gave her that same grateful look that Gustav had given her previously.

Not three days after the dream with Georg, it was onto Tom. Everyone was gathering their equipment to leave for a concert, but Tom was nowhere to be found. Georg, Gustav and I called his name all around the house, inside and out, but there was no sign of my twin brother.

Suddenly, I had a gut feeling as to where Tom was, and I took off sprinting through the neighborhood. I randomly ran up the driveway of one house and burst through the door. Tom sat on the couch, making out with some girl. I stood and watched, but dared not make a sound.

However, as they kissed passionately in half-darkness, I noticed the girl raising a dagger-like knife to Tom's chest. She was about to kill my brother! I wanted more than anything to scream warningly to Tom and shove his girlfriend out of the way, but I had somehow frozen in place.

Once again, the brown girl showed up out of nowhere (well, actually, she ran through a doorway that led to the kitchen) and snatched the weapon from the girl's hands. Tom jumped in surprise, and the girl seemed to grow hot with rage.

"Take _this_, sister!" The girl yelled as she swiped it threateningly at Tom's girlfriend, who ran both in terror and confusion.

My twin brother stared wide-eyed at his savior. "I-I should've listened to you…"

"So…" the girl started as she laid the knife carefully on the side table. "Ready to come back?"

And as luck would have it, the mystery girl helped me in a dream. Well, it actually wasn't much "help," per say. Or, at least, not what I remember. My only recollection was of me walking into my bedroom after a long night of partying, and sitting there on my bed was none other than that same girl that had saved my friends.

Suddenly, something struck my mind like a bolt of lightning. I hadn't dared ask before, or even thought of such a question. But the words managed to slither out of my mouth amongst my confusion. "Who are you?"

"Come here, handsome," the girl flirted, ignoring my question.

I was a little nervous about what was going on, but I found my legs taking me toward the bed. When I sat down, I persisted. "What are you doing here? Where did you come from?"

The girl raised a delicate finger to my lips. "Shh. Don't waste your energy asking questions. Your lips need to serve another purpose right now." Suddenly, the girl with the long brown hair leaned in, and her soft lips met mine with a passion that cannot be put into words. If I were awake, I would have shoved her away and looked at her with disbelief. But deep in my subconscious, this was perfectly normal; I found myself returning the kiss and wrapping my arms around her waist.

These dreams bothered me since the beginning; they obviously meant something. There was no way I could ignore what happened to my imagination as I slept when it was littered with images of the same brown-haired girl. When my feelings towards these crazy dreams only intensified, I had to tell someone.

And I told everyone. I told Tom, then Georg and Gustav, then our manager and the security guard…I even told my mom and stepdad when they called up one day. The dreams became an obsession, and I could tell my colleagues were starting to get annoyed.

And it only became worse that one fateful day when I saw her. We were on tour in the US, and I saw the real-life counterpart of the girl my subconscious had been telling me about. At first I thought I was dreaming. I _had_ to be dreaming. I stared at her the whole time, waiting till she came up onstage and did something miraculous.

But she just stood there and watched. She was not the same girl I had dreamed about, the one that performed miracles and was overall daring and unafraid. In reality, she seemed very shy and slightly withdrawn, a bit like Gustav.

"Tom, pinch me," I muttered as we exited the stage and our security guard took us to where the fans gathered for autographs.

"Huh?" My twin brother raised an eyebrow at me.

"You're not gonna believe this," I warned, "but I saw her."

"Saw who?" Tom asked.

"The girl in my dreams," I explained. "She was in the audience. Pinch me so I know I'm not dreaming."

Hesitantly, my brother took his thumb and forefinger and pushed them into my flesh. The sharp, searing pain in my arm told me I was awake.

Georg, who had overheard, came up from behind and whispered: "Hey, don't get your hopes up. What if it was just your imagination?"

"I suppose," I agreed. In fact, there was no doubt in my mind I had just gotten excited over nothing. Even so, she had looked so perfectly alike to the angel in my dreams. I at least had to talk to her.

When we made it out to our fans, I noticed my girl holding out a sketchpad with a drawing of Tom and I. It wasn't the first time I had seen a fan-made drawing of me or the other band members, but something inside of me was suddenly brimming with energy. I knew I could take this opportunity to meet her.

Tom and I signed her sketchbook, and I ensured her that we would meet again. No doubt I must have sounded creepy, but I couldn't think of anything better to say. And I felt almost for certain that it was true.

And it was. After two years of waiting, she came to a concert we were performing at in our hometown. But I proposed to myself that I wouldn't let this opportunity slide. She came all the way to Germany and I was going to make something of it. All I had to do was figure out a way to convince someone into singling her out of the crowd and sneaking her onto the tour bus…


	4. Reunited

**Chapter 4**

-Holly Wainright-

_I'm so gonna get creamed._

I had somehow managed to escape the sea of screaming fans and get outside, where the band's tour bus stood before me in all its glory. I had half a mind to sneak onto it, but I knew it was most likely guarded in some way.

Somewhere in the distance, the fans gathered outside for autographs. It wasn't until I heard all those screaming girls waving paper in the air when I realized that I must have been standing there an awful long time. Cautiously, I crept closer to the massive bus, glancing in all directions for a security guard. I knew I was in a restricted area, so I was tingling all over.

Blood started pounding in my ears when I heard footsteps in the distance. Out of panic, I shuffled behind the bus. But I was quickly relieved when I heard Bill's voice mixed in with that of the rest of the band. Cautiously, I crept around the corner of the bus, only to suddenly be grabbed by the arm and dragged out from behind my hiding spot.

When I dared look up, I was staring right into the glaring eyes of a security guard. He was yelling something at me in German, and I was shaking all over. Suddenly he started yanking at my arm, heaving me toward the gate I had jumped over to get in.

But to my relief, Bill ran up to the security guard and started talking to him. I couldn't figure out what he was saying, but I could tell he was protesting. The cop gave the singer a questioning look, but listened the entire way through. Finally, he grumbled reluctantly and let me go. I was relieved for a split second, but my heart started thudding with anxiety when Bill approached me with a broad smile on his face.

"Holly," he whispered. "We meet again."


	5. On the Bus

**Chapter 5**

-Holly Wainright-

I followed Bill and the others into the tour bus, and it started around the theater down the road. The security guard was still glaring at me, as if he was waiting for me to attack one of the band members. Bill had advised me to stay low as they rolled out onto the street, and I realized that we were passing all the screaming fangirls; I figured they would probably get angry and wonder how I had made it onto their tour bus, so I squatted on the carpet out of sight till the screaming died away.

I could feel the awkwardness spread throughout the bus; all eyes were on me when my presence started to sink in, and everyone except Bill betrayed funny looks.

Tom said something in German that sounded like a question, but it took me awhile to realize he was talking to me.

Bill responded to Tom's question, then turned to me. "So Holly…it's been awhile."

"It has," I answered cautiously. "But, there is one thing that I don't understand. What am I doing here?" I could have never imagined that my reunion with Bill would cause me to be whisked away on their tour bus, and the singer seemed to understand my confusion.

"It's a long story," Bill explained. "And chances are you won't even believe it. But if you listen to what I have to say, at least you'll understand why I need you."

Need me? What could Bill Kaulitz possibly need from me? Despite the growing amount of questions I had, I couldn't help but feel impressed that his English was improving; I didn't have to strain my ears to understand what he was saying.

"Are you sure about this?" Georg asked Bill. "I mean, if the media finds out about this…"

"Trust me on this," Bill insisted. "Even if my dreams were wrong, at least we tried something to keep the band together."

Georg seemed to get aggravated. "What makes you so sure the band is in jeopardy? We're perfectly fine! Look at us! We've got tons of fans, tons of albums…we're on tour for God's sake! Why is it you insist on trying to save us if we don't need saving?"

The singer growled at the bassist. "Georg, Tom wants to leave the band! Does that not give you some indication that we're in trouble?"

I was overcome with a pang of shock. Tom wanted to leave? What would Tokio Hotel do without their leading guitarist? I looked behind Georg and Bill to notice Tom leaving the room, grumbling to himself. Gustav sat at the table with his face in his hands, trapped in his own silent world. The band did look like it was in shambles now, much worse than when I saw them onstage. Was this the end of Tokio Hotel?

"We don't need Tom," Georg rasped. "There are plenty of guitarists out there who could take his place."

I noticed a shocked look on Bill's face. I felt sympathy for the singer; he obviously didn't want Tom to leave. They were twin brothers, after all; they must have been so close.

Finally, I dared to speak. "Georg, don't talk that way about Tom. If there's any way we can keep him in the band, we'll seize the opportunity immediately."

Bill smiled at me, and even Georg seemed to see reason. The bassist sighed in defeat, running his fingers through his long brown hair. "I know. But so much has happened to us over the past few months, and we're starting to lose hope. As much as we want to keep Tokio Hotel together, we're falling apart."

"I know this is kind of sudden," Bill added in. "But you just might be our only chance."

"How do you know?" I asked curiously. "What have I got to do with any of this?"

"Sit down," the singer insisted. "It's a long story."

-Bill Kaulitz-

I told Holly all about my dreams, giving the detail of how she helped each of my friends through different predicaments. I decided to leave out the dream where she kissed me, for fear that she might freak out. The brunette girl's eyebrow was raised the entire time I recounted the dreams, as if she wanted to believe me despite the weirdness of it all.

"Well that's strange," she finally said. "Are you sure it wasn't some other girl you saw?"

"I know it's you," I insisted. "When I first saw you, I felt such an overwhelming sense of familiarity that I felt like you had to be who I've been looking for. I felt drawn to you, and I wasn't about to let you go. Holly, if you can't help us, the band is broken."

Holly looked away from me. I knew this was too much for her to take in, and I suddenly regretted ever talking her into this whole predicament. She was just an ordinary girl, and none of this was any of her business! How selfish could I be to force such a beautiful young woman into helping me just because I saw her in a dream?

Finally, Holly spoke up. "Well, Bill, I'm no god. But if you truly believe that I'm the last resort before Tokio Hotel dies, I promise I'll do everything in my power to try and help."

I smiled, thrilled by the brown-haired girl's determination. "Thank you, Holly. This is more than I could have ever hoped for."

"Well, let me tell YOU something," Holly replied with a smirk on her face. "It's more than I or any Tokio Hotel fangirl could ever hope for to get to actually help you out. Do you know how many of your fans would kill for this kind of position?"

I laughed. "I have no doubt in my mind."

We giggled a while at the joke, but quickly ran out of things to say; our voices soon drowned in the noise of the humming bus as it sped down the road. I looked over at Holly, her chestnut eyes gazing out the window at the passing scenery. I felt my lips curl into a smile at the sight of her; I didn't know how long she would be staying with us, or if she was even the answer to our problems. Nonetheless, I had the feeling that I'd enjoy her company if anything.

Finally, Holly broke the silence. "Bill?"

"Yes, Holly?"

"I've been thinking about the dreams," the brunette girl explained, "and if your subconscious really believes that I can save Tokio Hotel, I'll do whatever I can to keep it together. But I'm really curious about one thing."

"Yes?" I urged on.

"What do you suppose the dreams mean?"


	6. Gustav's Tragic Story

**Chapter 6**

-Bill Kaulitz-

I was slightly confused by the question. All I had focused on was the belief that the dreams had merely meant Holly would save the band. I guessed she was talking about each individual dream and how she would specifically save each of my friends.

"Like…let's start with Gustav," Holly continued. "You say I pulled duct tape off of his mouth."

"Yeah," I confirmed.

"So, could that mean I save him from a hostage situation?" she suggested.

I thought for a moment. The dream was still fresh in my mind, and I remembered clearly how Gustav squirmed uncomfortably behind the duct tape. The drummer really did look like he was being held against his will, and several horrifying thoughts came to mind: Gustav being pounced by some crazed fan, tied up and gagged, tape slapping his mouth shut. I couldn't begin to fathom how that could happen, or how Holly could rescue him. Only time will tell.

"It's a possibility," I finally agreed. "But what about the dream with Georg?"

"Huh?" Georg, who had overheard, looked up from tuning his bass guitar.

Holly's eyebrows creased. "I'm not sure. It seems really weird if you ask me. I'm not sure how even someone as clumsy as Georg could die by tripping and falling, let alone the concept of me saying something and bringing him back to life."

"Are you two talking about Bill's dreams?" the bassist asked.

"Yeah," Holly replied. "Do _you_ have any idea what it means?"

Georg shrugged.

The brunette girl sulked, but then her face grew bright with an idea. She stood up, raised one hand and placed it on Georg's forehead. "The power of Christ compels you!"

Georg slapped his hands together and started cracking up, and I too started laughing.

Holly turned back to me with an amused smile on her face. "Did I do it?"

We were all doubled over in laughter, to the point where Tom and Gustav entered the room with questions on their faces. When we got a hold of ourselves, I explained what happened, and Tom started chuckling. Even Gustav betrayed a smirk, despite having been depressed lately.

I suddenly heard an uproar of screaming girls, which could only mean we had made it to the hotel. I was relieved at first, but then it was replaced by a wave of dread.

"Tobi!" I called into the hallway, summoning our security guard. "How are we going to get Holly into the hotel without being seen?"

Tobi suddenly glanced worriedly at the brown-haired girl; he obviously hadn't thought it through. But I didn't blame him; it wasn't like he was expecting having to sneak a random girl around with the band. But finally, he spoke up. "Okay, here's what we'll do: I'll go out there with you guys, and the bus driver will pull the bus around the back of the hotel. Once the coast is clear, he'll help the girl in through the backdoor."

"Sounds like a plan," I agreed.

After Tobi had disappeared for a few minutes to alert the bus driver of the plan, he came back and took the lead as the bus doors opened. The screaming fangirls suddenly became much louder, and I allowed myself to be swallowed by a hundred girls with outstretched arms containing cameras and notepads for autographs. The whole time I smiled to my fans and scribbled my name repeatedly on scraps of paper, but all that was on my mind was Holly, and I desperately hoped that she made it in the hotel okay.

-Holly Wainright-

Not only did I have to duck out of the way of the windows when the tour bus pulled up to the hotel, but I had to quickly scoot into another room until the door closed.

My spine tingled with apprehension when the last trace of Tokio Hotel left the tour bus. I felt alone, trapped in an unfamiliar place. It was amazing how scary it was in there without Bill around, or any of the band members for that matter. The second the doors closed, I felt like I was on a different planet, and I wanted more than anything to squeeze my eyes shut and open them to the band members wandering about.

After what seemed like forever, the bus finally rounded a few corners and quieted as it fell asleep. A tall man with a white goatee came back and approached me, and in a thick German accent he said: "Is okeh, yu can stand up naow."

Cautiously, I pushed myself to a stand and followed the old man out of the bus. When I stepped out into the sunlight, I found myself in a deserted lot. I heard the ever screaming people in the distance, but I didn't see them. I was still extremely nervous as the bus driver directed me to the elevator, told me to meet the band there and made his way back to his bus. But I was washed with relief when Tobi the security guard appeared, Bill and the rest of the band following soon after.

The next thing I knew we were all in the room, sprawled lazily over the beds. I sat curled in the large array of pillows at the head of one of the beds, and Bill sat beside me. Tom was browsing the fridge stocked full of soda, and Georg seemed to have melted on the bed across from the one I occupied. As for Gustav, he lay on the couch and started playing with his fingers.

I leaned closer to Bill and whispered: "Gustav hasn't talked at all, has he?"

The singer turned to me, a lock of his soft black hair brushing against my temple. "Gustav hasn't really been feeling well lately. He's been going through a tough time ever since the accident."

My eyebrows rose with concern. "Accident?"

"It happened two days after New Year's," Bill explained. "He said he woke up with severe stomach cramps, but thought nothing of it. I don't blame him; we were doing a lot of partying a few nights prior. But the pain only worsened, and Gustav called a friend, who insisted he go to the hospital. At first he didn't want to; that's us men for you." The singer smirked. "But his buddy finally talked him into going. When Gustav arrived at the hospital, they did a few X-rays and before he knew it, they immediately took him into emergency surgery; turns out he ruptured his appendix. The doctors told us that if he hadn't gone to the hospital, or even just arrived a little while later, he could have died."

I stared at the black-haired man in shock. Gustav came that close to death? It must have been scary.

"But it doesn't end there," Bill continued. My eyes grew wide in astonishment as Bill told the rest of the story. "Seven months later, he was at a bar when suddenly a guy started to get rowdy, and he picked a fight with Gustav. The brute smashed two beer bottles over his head, and he was back in the hospital pouring blood. He had to get a ton of stitches, and I could tell when we picked him up that his spirits had been shattered."

I could feel tears of sympathy well up in my eyes as I leaned into Bill. "Poor Gustav."

"Yeah." The singer looked over at his friend on the couch, whose eyes still seemed to be looking back at that horrid memory. "Gustav's always been quiet, but never this quiet. He hasn't spoken a word since the accident."

My tears spilled over and slid down my cheeks, and Bill rested his chin on my head and brushed them away with his thumb. I just couldn't believe it; Gustav had come so close to death twice in a seven-month time span. Gustav! He was the sweetest and most modest guy in the whole band; he didn't deserve such turmoil. I could see why he was so traumatized by the ordeal.

The more I thought about it, the harder I cried. Before I knew it, I was choking back sobs and my face was buried in Bill's long neck. The others were starting to stare (apart from Georg, who had fallen asleep on his bed), and Bill shot them a warning glance.

"Gustav will come around," the singer mumbled. "Just give him some time. Bad things happen to good people, you know. But we've been with him, by his side for as long as he's been feeling this way. I feel confident that he'll be back to his old self in due time."

I hoped—not only for Gustav's sake but my sake as well—that Bill was right. Because according to Bill's dream, he wasn't too far away from yet another predicament.


	7. Twin Bro Woes

**Chapter 7**

-Holly Wainright-

When the outside sky had darkened with twilight, everyone started to separate to their own designated hotel rooms. Tom strode out of the room without a word, while Georg patted Gustav on the shoulder and motioned his friend to come with him; I didn't know if it was just my imagination, but Bill seemed to be glaring at them with envy.

Tobi, the security guard, still felt uncomfortable about leaving me with Bill. I didn't blame the guy; we met when he caught me red-handed creeping around the tour bus. But the singer insisted I stay with him. With one final sharp glance at me, Tobi left the room, and Bill and I were completely alone for the first time.

"Are Georg and Gustav friends?" I asked, breaking the momentary silence.

"Best friends," Bill replied. "They've known each other longer than they've known me and Tom." I noticed that same irritated look on his face, and I officially became curious.

"Are you mad at them?" I asked.

"No," the singer answered. "I'm just jealous. They get along so well, and I don't think I've ever seen them fight. Even now, as Gustav's trauma has caused him to block us all out of his life, I see the slightest glow of hope in his face when Georg is around him. They seek comfort in each other, and they never let anything get in their way. Those two are closer than Tom and I, and we're identical twins."

"So what's the problem?" I wondered aloud.

"I just told you," Bill replied. "You'd think that if friends that don't share the same blood get along that well, than the relationship between me and my brother would be inseparable."

I raised an eyebrow. "It's not?"

Bill sighed. "Things aren't what they used to be. I feel so distant from Tom nowadays; he sneaks out all the time, he plans to leave the band once this tour is over, and we get into a lot of fights, an unnaturally large amount. I'm losing my brother. My twin brother. My _identical_ twin brother. The person that shares my DNA is so different from me now. You have to understand, Holly, that there is a certain connection between us, much deeper than that of you with your parents or lover or even a different type of sibling. Tom is my other half; if my other half is taken away from me, it's like a huge chunk of me will just blot out. And I don't even know what's going on. Was it something I did, I wonder? Or was it something someone else did? I never knew, but I'm scared to lose my brother, the other fragment of my being." Bill's eyes became sparkly with tears, and almost immediately they slid down his face, taking his makeup with it and creating black streaks down his cheeks. "I can't lose Tom; he means the world to me. I love him."

I could see the emotional events were becoming too much for my poor singer. I wrapped my arms around his skinny waist and rocked him back and forth, softly shushing him whenever he sobbed. I didn't want to hear him explain any further if it was this painful for him to talk about.

In my silence, I recounted the picture I used to draw the picture Bill and his twin brother signed. They were basically just standing together, eyeing the camera with masked expressions that they were portraying according to what the photographer wanted. But they were positioned close together—touching even. And even in the hollow shell of the photo, there almost seemed to be a connection, like an invisible cable linking the two together like the equally important halves of a whole they were. I considered what might happen if that psychological link were broken or undone, and I had a feeling that whatever it was, the outcome must be grim.

"Holly," Bill whispered, "I don't want to ask a ton from you, but I really want my brother back. Will you help me?"

I gently stroked the singer's huge black Mohawk. "That's why I'm here in the first place."

-Bill Kaulitz-

As I sprinted through the pouring rain—which came down so hard that it beat against my fragile frame and I could barely breathe—I could only feel the irony of running through a monsoon just like in my song. I couldn't make out much, except for a couple of distant street lights and huge, dark silhouettes of city buildings. I didn't know where I was running to, or even if I was trying to get anywhere. All I knew was that my heart was heavy with desperation.

"Tom!" I screamed. I could barely hear myself over the howling rain, and I doubted my brother could either. But I tried anyway. "Tom, where are you?"

There was no response, so I bent over and slowly straightened as I sucked in air through my lungs. Years of singing had given my chest a workout, and with maximum air capacity I gave it my all.

"TOM! WHERE ARE YOU?"

When still I heard nothing, I collapsed in defeat. My body lay as if dead on the cold asphalt, and the rain pelted my side like hail. The drops splashing on my face did not dull my awareness that I was crying. I felt like a two-year-old that lost his mom in the toy store, only much more extreme. I don't know how I knew it, but every instinct in my body told me that Tom was dead.

"TOM! DON'T GO!" I pleaded. "Please, Tommy. I need you…"

When I opened my eyes again, the rainstorm had quieted to a drizzle, and there kneeling beside me was none other than the same brown-haired girl that I had seen countless times before.

"Holly," I muttered, my voice shaking. "I want Tommy. Where is my brother?"

The young woman started stroking my head, where my Mohawk had been flattened, beaten down by the rain. "I'm sorry, Bill. Tom is lost."

My eyes popped open, and I found myself in bed with Holly huddled against me. I carefully sat up and rubbed my face, as if trying to wipe away the last traces of my dream. I had half a mind to go to Tom's room and make sure he was still there, but my gut wasn't alerting me to any immediate danger.

I looked over and saw Holly roll onto her back, stretch and yawn. When she sat up, she mumbled in a hoarse morning voice: "What are we doing today?"

"Well, we have a show tonight at seven," I replied. "Until then, anything you want to do. But first, we're all going to get breakfast."

My head was still swimming in my dream as we headed toward the elevator. What did it mean? Holly didn't save anyone; she just came to me and told me Tom was lost. I felt a painful lump rising in my throat. Did that mean that Tom can't be saved? Will he die soon?

We made it to the large room with a fancy array of tables covered over with elegant white tablecloths, neatly folded napkins and twelve types of silverware. This massive dining room was only reserved for special guests at the hotel, and Holly merely because she was with us. The place was big enough for like fifty people, even though there was only us four band members (and Holly).

Our caterer had already set up all the food on the far side of the room, so I quickly grabbed a plate and helped myself to some fruit and a turkey sandwich and sat down. I could see Holly becoming withdrawn, and I figured she must have felt very out of place. I called her over to sit next to me and we shared my food.

"So, do you want to do some shopping?" I asked.

"That sounds nice," Holly replied as she helped herself to some strawberries.

Although I should have felt hungry for the food that the brunette girl was now picking off my plate, in reality I felt like I was going to be sick. My dreams with Holly have started up again, and they would undoubtedly annoy me to bits like they have in the past. I spotted Tom sitting alone; a steamy pile of macaroni and cheese sat on his plate, but he stared at it more than he ate it.

"I'll be right back," I whispered to Holly as I got up from my seat.

Holly nodded, and I made my way over to Tom, who had isolated himself completely from the rest of us. My twin brother looked at me as I came to his deserted table, and his glare cut into mine and stung my chest. He wasn't even my brother anymore. This lonely, withdrawn man with the black cornrows was not the same Tom I knew and loved.

"Tom, can we talk?" I asked.

"About what?" My brother's icy voice made my spine shiver. I couldn't believe that I thought the playful, fun-loving boy with the golden dreadlocks was still in there somewhere.

"About…this." I gestured to the empty table around us, seemingly far away from the small crowd of people just one table over. "What's wrong, Tommy? Why haven't you been engaged with us for so long now? Is something going on that I should know about?"

"Nothing's going on," Tom growled quickly. "Go away."

"_Bitte_, Tom," I pleaded. "Tell me. I want to know how I can help."

"You can't help!" my brother barked fiercely. "_Weggehen_! Just leave me alone!"

I felt a searing pain in my chest, and my heart felt as if it had been ripped in half. I got back up and quickly retreated to my table, where Georg and Gustav sat across from Holly.

"What happened?" Holly asked as I sat back down.

"Nothing," I mumbled quickly, dropping my head to look down at my plate. But being the wimpy man I am, my face betrayed a single tear clear enough for Holly to see, no thanks to my black makeup. I felt her brush it away with her thumb quickly so the G's wouldn't notice, and she rested her hand on my knee.

"You know I'll do whatever I can to help," she whispered.

I nodded, but I questioned her ability to make everything right. If things really turn out the way they did in my dream, I'll likely never see Tom ever again.


	8. Gunshot

**Chapter 8**

-Holly Wainright-

After some pondering, we finally decided on a plan. Bill, Georg and I left the hotel to get some shopping done, while Gustav went back to his room to read the rest of the day (according to Georg, he had been doing a lot of reading lately). Tom ran off before anyone could question him, so Tobi chased after the guitarist to who-knows-where.

Even though the band members wore layers of clothes to keep a low profile, they found themselves stopping every few minutes to sign autographs. Bill had advised me to just keep walking when that happened, so that it didn't look like I was with them. I found myself several feet in front of them at times, so I had to pause every now and then and pretend to look into the display window of a shop until they caught up.

After a while I started to realize that we were wandering through a deserted part of town littered with abandoned buildings, old and patched with plywood.

"Bill, where are we going?" I asked.

"Just taking a slight detour," the singer replied. "There isn't anyone here, so we won't be stopped for autographs."

"If we keep going, we should find a shopping center," Georg added in.

But the more we walked through the labyrinth of worn buildings, the deeper we seemed to get into the ghost town. They finally stopped dead in their tracks at a fork in the street, eyeing each other with confused looks.

"We could try…this way," Bill suggested, pointing to the right.

"But I hear the road that way," Georg protested, pointing straight ahead.

"Okay," Bill decided. "Let me just be sure. Wait here." The singer trotted down the path to the right and disappeared from sight.

Georg stared after him for a few seconds, then started slowly down the other way. He didn't get further than about ten feet from me before an overwhelming pang of panic welled inside of me. And it wasn't fear that the bassist would abandon me in this impossible maze of buildings; I suddenly felt drawn to him and followed him down the street.

"Stay at the fork," Georg ordered. "Bill will be waiting for you there. I know it's this way; Bill has a terrible sense of direction."

"Okay, Georg, but—" I froze. Something in the distance caught my attention; it sounded like someone bumped a trash can or something. I had an eerie feeling that we were being followed, and I wasn't about to leave Georg; his presence was the only thing keeping me sane at that moment, whether he knew it or not.

"Go back to the intersection," Georg persisted. The bassist turned around and started walking down the narrow path, and I could feel my panic level bump up a notch with every step he took away from me.

When I saw him near another fork in the street, I couldn't take it anymore and sprinted after him. He whirled around when he heard me, and I didn't have to see his wrinkling face to know he was pissed.

"_Verdammt_, Holly!" the bassist screamed. "What part of 'wait at the intersection' don't you understand?"

While Georg was yelling at me, I caught sight of a shady-looking man duck behind a trash can. The sight went by so fast, but I looked just in time to see he was holding a gun.

"Georg, get down!" I barked. I shoved the brunette man out of the way, and the guy with the gun sprang up. He took only one second to fire the gun, then bolted down the dark alleyway. It took me a second to realize it, but a sharp pain in my arm told me that I had taken the bullet.

Georg stared after the man in shock. "What…just happened?"

"Ugh! Georg!" I carefully peeled my sleeve back to reveal blood gushing out of my right arm. My vision became bleary with faint as I watched the scarlet liquid stream down my arm and fall onto the asphalt.

"_Oh mein gott_!" Georg exclaimed, taking my bloodstained arm and raising it up. I heard footsteps behind us, and the brown man shifted his gaze behind me. "Bill!"

"Holly!" I almost didn't recognize the singer's voice, which was hoarse with sudden panic. He rushed over and gawked at my arm, mouth open, hyperventilating.

"Bill, call an ambulance," Georg instructed.

To my relief, Bill was able to calm down enough to take out his phone and start dialing. But I continued to lose blood despite Georg keeping my arm elevated. Everything became really fuzzy, and I saw two of Bill. When I glanced to the side I saw two of Georg, and behind them there were twice as many buildings as there were before. I found myself teetering from side to side; my head felt like it weighed fifty pounds, and it was going to pull me down in either direction.

"Whoa, easy," Georg gasped as I nearly slipped out from under my own feet. The bassist grabbed my waist with his free hand and hoisted me up against him to keep me steady; I felt his rock-hard muscles in his chest and, in contrast, his soft brown hair brushing over my face. I could hear him mumbling: "Come on, Holly. Stay with us."

But it was too late. My eyes were rolling back into my head, and the surrounding noises were drowning and fading out. My senses shut down, and everything went black.

-Bill Kaulitz-

I paced endlessly around the hospital lobby, too antsy to sit down. All my senses were blocked by horrifying thoughts and everlasting shock, which hadn't faded at all since I had first seen Holly pouring blood in the streets.

I walked blindly around the room for what seemed like forever, when suddenly Georg grasped my shoulder and brought me back to reality. "Calm down, Bill. I'm sure she'll be fine."

I said nothing, but my mouth hung open as I started hyperventilating again.

"Easy, easy," Georg muttered. "She wasn't hurt that bad. In fact, she probably saved my life."

My eyes grew wide and I looked at my friend to confirm what he said.

The bassist crinkled his eyebrows. "What?"

"She saved your life?" My heart started thudding at the realization of what this meant. "She saved your life! That's what the dream meant!"

"The dream with me and Holly? Are you sure?"

"I know it is," I insisted. "I can feel it."

After a while, a nurse summoned us over to the room they took Holly into, and I quickly strode toward her with Georg hot on my heels. Inside the room, Holly sat upright on a hospital bed, a white bandage with bright red splotches binding her right arm.

The brown-haired girl's face lit up when she saw me walk in. "Bill!" She sprang up from the bed and threw her good arm around me, her wounded arm following more carefully.

"Holly…" I muttered with delight. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Nope," Holly chimed. "I didn't break anything, and the doctors said that the bullet went clear through my arm, so I didn't even need surgery to get it removed."

I smiled, relieved, and returned my friend's hug. "Holly, do you realize what you did?"

She looked up at me. "Huh?"

"You completed your first step in restoring the band," I explained. "Remember the dream I told you about where you brought Georg back from the dead by saying you saved him?

Holly didn't answer; rather she looked up at me expectantly. So I continued.

"I think what it meant was that you saved his _life_, which you just did. Had you not been there, that crazy whacko in the alley probably would have killed Georg."

Holly's eyes clouded with thought, and her head fell back on my shoulder. "You really think so?"

"I know so," I replied. "When the ambulance took you away, I realized that for the first time in about three years, that particular dream has stopped annoying the hell out of me."


	9. Behind Closed Lips

**Chapter 9**

-Holly Wainright-

When we got back to the hotel, my mind was still in a haze. I had just saved a life. Not just any life, Georg Listing's life! If I had really fulfilled a dream like Bill had said, then I decided to try and make another one become reality. I remembered the desperation in the singer's voice when he asked me for help with reuniting him with his brother, but when I looked around Tom was nowhere to be found.

I sighed in defeat. Tom was gone, and Tobi was yelling at Bill and Georg in German (the incident in the ghost town may have been a factor). That left me with only one choice: Gustav.

I knocked softly on Gustav's door. "Gustav, can I come in?" I stood outside the door for about a minute without a response, but right when I was about to give up and go find Bill, Georg saw me and came up the hall.

"He's in there," the brunette bassist insisted. He pounded on the door in a sequence of rhythms that suggested a secret knock, then called through it: "Gustav, it's Georg. Can I come in?"

Cautiously the door opened, and the blond drummer peered out. I noticed for the first time an array of pink scars along his forehead, and quickly I remembered Bill's story of Gustav's predicament with the bar fight. I couldn't begin to fathom how scared the poor man must have been in such an ordeal.

Georg started inside the drummer's room, and he motioned for me to follow. Gustav eyed his friend with a panicked expression, but he just responded with: "It's okay, Gustav. She doesn't bite."

Gustav eyed me wearily, but let the both of us into his room. The blond man retreated to his bed and picked up his book like it was his only form of comfort; I eyed the cover but couldn't make out the title because it was in German.

"Gustav, can I…talk to you about something?" I asked.

The drummer continued to stare at me like a deer caught in headlights.

"Trust me, Holly," Georg interrupted. "He's not telling you anything."

"Okay then," I decided, turning back to Gustav. "I'll do the talking, and you can listen." When the blond man seemed to relax, I continued. "I heard what happened at the bar. Gustav, I'm so sorry. No one as sweet as you deserves something that brutal."

I gently stroked the drummer's forehead, my fingers running over the fresh scars. He shuddered at my touch, so I pulled away thinking he didn't like it. But incredibly, he met my gaze and quickly shook his head, taking my bandaged hand in his. I couldn't help but widen my eyes in confusion, but I sat next to Gustav and rubbed his back. I noticed his eyes seem to close with contentment.

I heard an irritating noise coming from Georg, and the bassist took his ringing phone out of his pocket and answered it. After a few brief words in German, he slapped the phone shut and said: "Tom needs me for something. Gustav, would you be okay staying here with Holly?"

The drummer nodded, and merely watched without a care as his best friend got up and moved toward the door. With a swinging motion and the clicking sound of a door closing, Gustav and I were alone.

The blond man pressed his body against mine—carefully monitoring where he fell so that he didn't hurt my injured arm—and something inside me came alive. I realized why Gustav must have enjoyed my touch; there seemed to be a connection there that words couldn't even begin to compete with. I wondered if he felt disconnected from the world since his ordeal, and the human touch has been his only way of getting through to people. Perhaps that was why Georg pat him on the shoulder and rubbed him on the back so much.

The silence made the atmosphere feel dull and eerie, so I decided to talk. I told Gustav about my life in college and about cute boys I've encountered and how my dorm partner Christie could sometimes be obnoxiously loud but she was a good friend nonetheless. And he listened. The drummer's eyes, magnified by his glasses, watched me with endless curiosity and a world of emotion from behind his closed lips. I could tell there was an entire universe of words balled up inside of him; if only he could open his mouth and just let those comments spill out for all the world to hear.

I decided to keep pushing the boundaries. I recounted the entire story of how I came to be with Tokio Hotel and follow them around. I described how confused I was when Bill first told me we'd meet again, and how I followed the band all the way to Germany to make it a reality all because of a promise. I recounted the fear I felt when Tobi suddenly grabbed my arm and dragged me out from behind the tour bus. I could see Gustav's eyebrows rising with his interest; he was dying to say something.

"Gustav," I finally said, "I'm not asking anything major of you. It's just that I'm worried about you. The rest of the band is worried about you. I think that since you haven't spoken a word since the bar fight, everyone thinks you have just given up. You don't seem any further away from leaving the band than Tom." I felt the painful lump rise in my throat as I mentioned the departure of Bill's brother. "Keep in mind that I'm not forcing you to talk if you don't want to, but I think your life will go a lot smoother once you learn to open up about your feelings."

Gustav looked away from me and took off his glasses. I realized with horror that tears had escaped his eyes and started running down his cheeks. I felt overwhelmed by guilt; had I underestimated the severity of what happened to the poor man? I wrapped my arms around the drummer just as I had done with Bill, although his waist wasn't nearly as small as the skinny singer.

"I'm sorry Gustav," I apologized quickly. "I know this is hard for you. But think about your friends and family; the people you love and that love you. I think that you'd take a load off their shoulders if they knew that your incident hasn't permanently scarred you." I rested my chin on the blond man's shoulders. "Will you talk for me?"

Gustav shook his head, but his eyes seemed apologetic.

"What about Bill?" I asked. "Would you talk for Bill?"

Gustav hesitated, but still shook his head no. I thought carefully, and suddenly it hit me.

"How about Georg?" I asked. "Would you talk for your best friend?"

Gustav responded neither with word nor gesture, and he appeared to not be able to answer.


	10. Hospitalized

**Chapter 10**

-Bill Kaulitz-

That night, I had another dream about Holly. I was twelve years old again, and the whole band was taken to a huge field to run around in while we had a break from touring. Tom ran ahead, his golden dreadlocks glowing in the warm sunlight. I chased after him, laughing and shouting with delight. We playfully wrestled each other to the ground and started rolling over each other without a care in the world. My stomach hurt from laughing so much, and Tom mirrored my joy in his face.

But suddenly, Tom started to get a bit rough. I squirmed under him to get him to stop, but he pinned me down and wouldn't move no matter how much I screamed at him. When I opened my eyes, looking down at me was not the same twelve-year-old Tom I had been playing with; it was the twenty-year-old man with the cornrows that I had grown to fear.

"Tom, stop!" I pleaded. "What are you doing?"

"You can't help me," Tom growled. "If only you knew how much I was hurting inside." A single tear dropped out of my twin's eye onto my face, and I realized with a pang of dread just how bad the situation was.

Before I was fully able to comprehend what was going on, the dream shifted, and before I knew it I was in a dimly-lit hotel room. Gustav sat upright against the head of the bed, his mouth duct-taped shut. But unlike previous dreams, my friend seemed not at all troubled by it; in fact, he looked relaxed. Holly sat next to him, their sides touching, and her head rested on his shoulder with her arm around his waist. I felt very uncomfortable standing there watching them.

"Holly, what are you doing?" I demanded.

Holly looked up at me and said: "Oh, good, you're here. Gustav needs your help."

I stared at the girl, dumbfounded. "With what? The duct tape? I can pull it off." But just before I made it over to the bed, my eyes popped open.

Bleary-eyed and confused, I rolled over in bed and checked the time. The digital clock on the nightstand read a little after three in the afternoon. Carefully I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

"Oh, good, you're up."

I turned my head to see Holly by the window, which flowed with passing scenery. It took me a while to remember that I was on the tour bus. "Holly…what are you doing in here?"

"I came in a few minutes ago to check on you," the brunette girl explained. "I was really worried; you were squirming and flailing in your sleep, mumbling: 'Tom, no. Tom, please stop.'"

"Must have been a nightmare," I concluded, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

"You did do a lot of partying the night before," Holly agreed.

The girl wasn't lying; after our previous night's performance, the whole band went out for a party at a nearby club. By the time we made it back to the tour bus, we were all so bombed that Tobi and Holly had to collect our bags from the hotel rooms. I couldn't remember much else; I crashed once I hit the bed in my room.

But Holly and I both knew that I'd had another bothersome dream. But I'm sure she just didn't want to burden me with bringing back up the situation with Tom. Still, I felt an overwhelming urge to try again to get some information out of my brother. The memory of the pain I felt to see him crying over me told me that there was something going on, and I was about to get to the bottom of it. And since we were on a tour bus, he had nowhere to hide.

I approached Tom's room carefully and knocked on the door. "Tom?" When I didn't get a response, I slowly opened the door. I was actually a bit surprised to open it; I half-expected it to be locked.

Tom sat curled up on his bed, still sporting the clothes he wore the night before; he looked like nothing more than a baggy black jacket and a pair of blue jeans on a cheap bedsheet.

"Go away," Tom growled.

"I just want to talk," I protested. "I worry about you."

Tom sighed, then slowly rolled over and sat up. But something wasn't right with his appearance; the color had drained completely from his face. He was so pale that he almost looked undead, and his eyes were even duller than usual.

My voice became hoarse with concern. "Tom, you don't look so good."

"I feel like crap," my brother complained. "I think I'm sick."

"Can you come into the kitchen?" I asked. "We should probably tell Tobi about this."

Groaning, Tom heaved himself up off the bed, only to collapse on the carpet. I started to panic, and I knelt down beside my twin brother and flipped him over. I realized with dread that he was unconscious.

"Tobi!" I screamed. I found my breath become shaky. Was my brother dying before me?

The security guard rushed in, followed by the G's and finally Holly.

"What happened?" Tobi demanded.

"I d-don't know…" I stammered. "I-I think he's dying…"

"We should get him to the hospital," Holly said quickly.

Tobi rushed to the front of the tour bus to inform the driver, and I lurched backward as the giant vehicle picked up the pace. I refused to leave Tom's side the entire ride, kneeling over him and stroking his jet-black cornrows. Soon I found myself mumbling to my brother in German; it was pretty much just the typical "You're gonna be okay, Tom. We'll find a hospital and…and…" I choked. The words caught in my throat, and all of a sudden I found myself sobbing. Words of encouragement continued to spill out of my mouth—more for myself than for Tom—but it only made me feel worse. I fell over the limp body of my brother and started bawling, pressing his head to my chest to keep him warm.

"_Nicht sterben_," I pleaded. "_Bitte, Tom! Sterben Sie nicht!_"

Holly helped me carry Tom into the ER, and almost immediately he was whisked away by two doctors with a rolling bed. I could only stare in disbelief as my brother is taken away and vanishes from sight. I felt overcome with exhaustion, as if part of me were dying inside. I felt Holly's warm, comforting hand envelop mine as she led me to a waiting room chair.

Georg sat with his head in his hands, and Gustav had opened an old magazine but didn't actually seem to be reading it. Holly rested her head on my shoulder, deep in thought. I remembered the dream about her saving Tom from a madwoman, but nothing could keep me from coming back to my recent nightmare when Holly told me that Tom was lost. I couldn't figure it out; was Tom going to die, or was Holly going to save him like in the dream I had in the first place?


	11. Missing

**Chapter 11**

-Holly Wainright-

Bill just sat there, glaring at the hallway with a sharp expression of fear; I had never seen the singer so scared. I felt a knot in my stomach as I tried to imagine what it must be like to sit in a hospital, not knowing if your brother is going to live or die. I imagined the invisible cable being broken, and the tower of friendship and brotherhood crumbling and crashing down.

"Dinner's ready on the bus when you're ready for it, guys," Tobi mumbled to the band members as he approached. But one look around told me that no one could think of eating while Tom was who-knows-where, probably hooked up to an IV or given some weird drug to keep his heart from stopping.

Nonetheless, the G's got up and walked away with Tobi toward the tour bus. But Bill stayed still as a statue in his chair, his cold hard stare piercing through to the hallway where he caught the last glimpse of his brother several hours ago. I knew staying in the hospital waiting room wasn't going to improve Tom's condition, and it didn't seem to be helping Bill much either.

"Come on," I urged. "Let's get on the bus."

The singer reluctantly agreed to follow the others onto the bus, but he would not let go of my hand. Once on board the vehicle, he high-tailed it to his room and locked the door behind him. I was shocked; this was out of character for Bill. The pain he felt for Tom must have been unimaginable.

Georg sat at the table and poked at a bowl of salad, as if wanting to eat it but his energy had left him. I trudged into the living room and fell onto the couch—my temporary bed that Tobi had set aside for me—and curled into a ball. I felt so alone for the first time since traveling with the band, even though people passed me left and right. My injured arm started to ache, and I gripped the white bandages which were stained dark brown with aging blood. Amongst my searing physical pain, I realized that all I could think about was Bill. I felt his pain, his suffering, his agony. All I wanted was to wrap my arms around his waist and tell him it was going to be alright, that I was going to save Tom from his hellhole. But the truth was, I didn't even know if he was going to live through the night. I remembered Bill telling me about the special bond that identical twins share, and how part of him would die along with Tom. Just the thought of it brought up the painful lump in my throat, followed by tears.

As I lay there, sobbing pitifully, I felt a large, warm hand brushing away my tears. I looked up to see Gustav kneeling beside me, his eyes dark with grief and sympathy. He took my hands in his—being careful with my wounded hand—and pulled me up off the couch. From there, he proceeded to wrap his massive arms around me in a gentle bear hug. The drummer's warmth enveloped me on all sides, and the incredible connection of touch blanketed and comforted me from my sick feelings of dread.

"I have to find Tom," I mumbled from inside Gustav's chest.

The blond man looked at me in confusion.

"Saving Tom was part of the reason I ended up here," I explained. "I've got to find out what he's doing so that I can try to figure out how to keep him in the band. That is, unless you _want_ a replacement guitarist."

Gustav sighed, then led me to the entrance on the bus. Very carefully, he opened the door and motioned me out. Every bone in my body tingling, I slipped out of the bus and started sprinting down the parking lot. I felt the same adrenaline rush that I had had when I snuck around the theater to the tour bus on my first day with the band.

When I entered the hospital, I noticed a couple nurses pacing around in a blind panic. As one nearly ran into me, I asked: "What's going on?"

"A patient's gone missing," the nurse explained.

I felt the panic inside me only escalate. "It wouldn't happen to be Tom Kaulitz, would it?"

"It is," she replied with wide eyes. "He must have snuck out when no one was around."

"Oh, god." I ran out of the hospital and looked around frantically. Judging Tom's current condition, I didn't think he'd make it far.

Suddenly, a gut feeling took me back behind the building. I stopped dead in my tracks a few feet away from the final corner, where I heard voices. I recognized one of them as Tom's, but there was someone else whom I didn't recognize.

"Are you kidding?" Tom yelled. "That poison almost killed me! It's a miracle I'm able to stand on my own two feet right now."

"Hey, we're together now, aren't we, baby?" It was a female voice, but I didn't think of who it might me.

Tom sighed. "True, true. Just promise me next time that you'll figure out a safer way to get me away from the others."

"Promise," said the female voice.

The only noise I heard after that was what sounded like someone chewing gum, but in reality they were probably making out. Very quietly, I slipped away with a million questions on my mind. Who was Tom talking to? How come Bill didn't mention anything about this? Did he even know? And was Tom's sudden sickness all part of some plan?

I was in a daze when I slowly opened the door to the tour bus, only to be snatched right back into reality as a strong hand grabbed me by my good arm and yanked me in, the door slamming shut behind me.

"Where the hell have you been?" Tobi shouted in my ear. "We've been worried sick!"

"I was only gone for a few minutes," I protested.

"Doing what?" the bodyguard demanded. "You had better have been looking for Bill, or something just as reasonable!"

My stomach hurt with sudden worry. "Bill's…missing?"

"He snuck out," Georg explained as he approached, "probably to go see Tom. We thought he'd only be a few minutes, but he never came back. And then you disappeared, and we thought people were being plucked off the bus left and right."

"Well, we gotta find him," I said, panic rising in my voice.

"We'll search for him together," Tobi decided. "Everyone stay close to me, and let me know if you see him. If he's not found by nine, call the police."

I briefly glanced at the clock; it read eight thirty-five. We didn't have much time, and I didn't want to believe that Bill had been kidnapped. I tried to stay close to Tobi as instructed, but I found myself wandering ahead as we all broke into an uncoordinated chorus of Bill's name walking around the hospital.

"He's not in the waiting room," Georg reported as he exited through the automatic doors. "And…a nurse told me that Tom's nowhere to be found."

Tobi slapped himself in the forehead so hard that the sound pierced through my ears and made me flinch. "For crying out loud! Is there anyone who _doesn't_ want to run away?" The security guard bared his yellow-rusted teeth and sighed. "Fine, new plan: we'll split up and look for them both. Georg, you go with Holly and search those woods." He gestured behind the massive building at a wall of trees, silhouetted as black, fluffy mountains of leaves against the setting sun. "Gustav and I will see if the nurses can give us any more information, then we'll search around the building."

The plan was set, and Georg and I set off into the foliage. I realized that the trees were relatively spread out; a man could easily walk through them without much trouble. And after a few minutes of walking, I spotted something black dangling off the branch of a tree. When I pulled it off, I noticed that it was frighteningly familiar.

"It's…Bill's leather Jacket," Georg whispered.

"It looks like he left it as a calling card," I observed. "I'm gonna go up ahead—you stay here where you have an eye on the clearing. If you hear me shout, respond so I can find you." Georg looked like he wanted to argue, but I ran off before he could. After a few minutes of walking, a weak ray of sunlight shone through the trees, and glistening under it was none other than Bill.

The singer turned his head as I approached, but his face only seemed to darken.

"Bill, what are you doing out here?" I demanded.

"I came out here to be alone," he mumbled. "Look, Holly, I've been thinking. And it seems this whole affair with you and the dreams…it's just not working."

I suddenly felt like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders; it wasn't like Bill to speak like this. "Are you saying that I should leave? Go back to the US and just forget any of this happened?"

"Well…" The singer seemed to hesitate. "…I guess you can say that, but I think I should leave, too. I've decided to break up the band."


	12. Poison

**Chapter 12**

-Bill Kaulitz-

I wasn't at all surprised by Holly's apparent shock. And frankly, it was a last resort. I didn't want it to come to this, but I felt like I was out of options.

"So…that's it?" she asked hoarsely. "The band's done? You didn't even give me a chance…"

I sighed. "I'm sorry, Holly, but things are just too complicated right now. I can't go on like this."

"Bill, you're talking like Tom is already dead," the girl protested.

My blood boiled with an immense amount of hot rage. "Maybe he _is_ dead! Maybe Tom is gone forever, and the band is ruined. Look, Holly, I'm sorry. I should have never dragged you into this mess in the first place." I turned away and blinked back tears. "I had been relying on a bunch of stupid dreams to help keep the band together, but now it's in shambles. I'm just…done." I started back toward the hospital.

"Bill, this isn't the end…"

"Everything's gone, Holly! Tom's life is ruined if not over, and I can't get back onstage without him. This isn't just Tom's last tour; it's Tokio Hotel's last tour." I sprinted through the trees before Holly could argue further.

Right before I burst through the trees, I noticed two dark figures standing out against the beige hotel building. Ducking down, I recognized one of them as Tom. The other was a dark-haired woman that I had never seen before, and yet she looked awfully familiar. Beer bottles surrounded them both; it was obvious that Tom was drunk beyond belief, but the girl was merely buzzed if anything.

As Tom swayed from side to side with glazed eyes and an idiotic smile on his face, the dark-haired girl pulled out a small bottle in front of my brother and sneered: "You'll never know. You'll be a rotting corpse by the time anyone finds out."

My heart was thudding so hard I was afraid it might burst. This girl—whoever she was—was trying to kill my brother! I had to do something, even though it might not make a difference whether or not I let Tom die. But despite my panic, I knew that I couldn't just strike; this chick was potentially dangerous. If she had poison, who knew what else she might have: a gun? A knife?

I choked back a gasp. Just like in my dream! This is what my subconscious had been warning me about! But no sense waiting for Holly to save Tom; I had to take care of the situation myself. I made noises and crunched leaves to alert the killer to my presence, and I saw her frantically rush to hide the tiny but deadly bottle in her purse.

"Hey," I greeted as I came out of the woods. "Thanks for finding my brother."

"He's really drunk," she responded quickly. "You might want to take him inside."

"Good idea," I said, almost too hastily.

I bent down beside Tom, wrapping my arm around his waist and swinging his arm over my shoulders. Hoisting my brother up onto his feet, we trekked around to the front of the building. It was the longest walk of my life; I didn't know how much poison Tom had consumed, and I expected him to just flop down dead any second. And his occasional outbursts and resistances from the alcohol were not helping.

After what seemed like forever, we finally trudged through the automatic doors up front. I didn't have to explain anything to the nurses before they wheeled him away again, though I did inform them that he "might have ingested something bad." I figured that would give them enough information to get his stomach pumped.

I sat in a waiting room chair and just waited. I didn't care who came for me—whether it was Holly or the G's or Tobi or Tom. I was not going to go back out and let myself be known. I felt so distant from not only everyone else, but myself as well; I felt as if my spirit were trying to escape my body and float up to the ceiling like smoke. Slowly, my vision went blurry, and I found myself channeling my brother's point of view. Everything was dark and bleary, and I felt an immense amount of pain in my stomach. A mixture of slurred yelling and frantic doctors rang in my ears.

I felt a cold hand on my shoulder, and immediately I snapped out of the trance. A nurse looked down at me and whispered: "Are you Bill?"

"Yeah," I replied, dizzy from the sudden transition back to reality.

"Tom would like to see you," she explained.

"Is he…sober?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied. "He has successfully passed all of the alcohol from his system."

I was surprised; I must have been there longer than I thought. I had to have been there for hours for even some of his alcohol level to go down.

I followed the nurse through a hallway until we finally stopped and entered a room. Tom lay sprawled on a hospital bed, his oversized clothes appearing to melt into the mattress.

"Hey, Bill," he mumbled sleepily. "What happened?"

"You were completely trashed," I explained. "But there's something else I want to talk to you about." I knew I was going to regret it, but at that moment my better judgment was telling me that I'd rather have my brother hate me than die. "I noticed a girl with you…"

"Oh, no…" Tom looked away from me and focused his gaze on the ceiling. "I see you've met my girlfriend. Okay, Bill, you caught me. I've been sneaking out to see her for the past few weeks, and I think I'm in love."

I was astonished. My older brother would never say something like that; he was known in Tokio Hotel as the player who picked up random fans for a night. How could he have come to the conclusion that he fell in love with someone?

I shook my head. There was a bigger issue at hand. "Tom, I have to tell you something about that girl, and you're not gonna like it."

My twin creased his eyebrows and eyed me wearily.

I told Tom my suspicions about his girlfriend trying to poison him to death, and reminded him of my dream and how strikingly similar it was.

"It was just a coincidence," Tom mumbled. "She wouldn't try to kill me."

I was amazed at my brother's oblivious attitude toward what was happening. "Open your eyes, Tom! I saw her waving a poison bottle in front of your face while you were drunk, and I'll bet she's responsible for landing you here the first time!"

"She was trying to get us together!" he shouted. "I told her to never do something that dangerous again, and she promised."

"You're in here because she tried again," I persisted. "You two were together and she still got you to ingest poison! How can you be so ignorant about what's going on?"

"She loves me, Bill!" Tom argued. "Why can't you be happy for me?"

"I could be happy for you if she wasn't making you do things that could kill you!" I yelled.

Tom growled. "You don't understand! Just leave."

"_You_ don't understand," I explained. "Your girlfriend is trying to kill you."

"Leave!" Tom barked. "I hate you!"

My heart jumped, then felt as if it had been pierced by a dagger. I stormed out of the room, almost running into a doctor. He looked at me questioningly, but the black streaks that my tears created told him I didn't want to talk; instead he looked really worried and rushed into Tom's room.

I opened the door to the tour bus, only to viciously be yanked inside.

"Get in here and stay!" Tobi ordered.

My incessant crying must have been turning my whole face black; I felt like everyone was against me. Where did I go wrong? What did I do to make everyone I know start yelling at me?

As I sat curled in my bed, my pillow growing wet with my tears, those horrid words played over and over in my head.

_I hate you!_

My brother hated me. My pride and joy, my misery and suffering, my other half wanted me gone. The same person who stood close to me during a shooting, brushing his arm against me even if the photographer didn't ask for it. The same guy who partied with me through the night, sharing a drink with me in between meeting girls. The same brother that told me the best birthday present he ever received came ten minutes after he was born, and my heart glowed with unspoken happiness as I figured out that he was referring to me.

My favorite person in the whole wide world saw me as his worst enemy. I had had this feeling many times over the past few days, but it was more intense now; it was probably because Holly wasn't there to hug me and rock me and tell me she'd fix things between us. And why? Because I called her off! How could I have been so stupid? I needed her more than ever, and I told her to just forget everything I believed about her.

"There's nothing left," I blubbered aloud. "Everything's gone. Every_one's_ gone. And eventually I'll be gone. What's the point? Why not just end it now?"

Like an answered prayer, a song immediately got stuck in my head. I recognized it as one of our early singles, _Ready Set Go!_ But the same lyrics seemed to play over and over in my head like a broken record.

_Ready set go, it's time to run. The sky is changing, we are one. Together we will make it while the world is crashing down. Don't you turn around…_


	13. Rescue

**Chapter 13**

-Holly Wainright-

All I could do was sit on my couch, hug my knees and stare into space. I felt so out-of-place, so hurt. Tobi had given me Tylenol for my arm, but that didn't stop the pain in my chest; I felt like my heart had been ripped out from between my lungs. I didn't even know Bill anymore; he was so nice and sweet when I first met him. Now he was darker than anyone I had ever known before. I couldn't help but think that Tom really _had_ died, and Bill had partially died as well. The side of Bill that I had come to know and love was gone. One twin was still physically alive, but they might as well both be dead, because whatever spirit now inherited my singer's body was not Bill.

I heard the front door slam shut, and Tobi screamed: "Get in here and stay!"

I peeked through the doorway to see Bill running for his room, his face black with makeup that had been ruined by tears. I felt a rock in my stomach; so Tom was dead. I had never seen Bill cry like that, so his brother must have given in to the poison. I felt dizzy; the room was spinning. I allowed myself to fall back against the arm of the couch and let my mind get lost in a daze. But I didn't really start crying until reality hit. Bill had a dream that I would save Tom from this very situation, and I had failed. I couldn't get there in time.

Gustav came in and knelt beside me, and I allowed him to pull me off the sofa and embrace me in another hug. His warmth enveloped me, and to my surprise I was slightly relaxed, even in Tokio Hotel's darkest hour.

"Gustav, things are looking grim," I pointed out. "I don't think Tokio Hotel's gonna make it. And I'm sure you felt the same way after all of your predicaments. I can only wonder why you're still around. No matter how bad things got for you, you've always found the strength to go on. How do you manage?"

"Friendship."

I couldn't help but jolt in the drummer's arms, and I looked up at him in shock. Did Gustav just _talk_?

The blond man looked just as surprised as I was, but he was able to continue. "The…the reason why I can live with myself after all that's happened is because I've got so many friends looking out for me. People who I love and who love me, as you said."

I was astounded. Not only was Gustav talking for the first time in who-knows-how-long, but he made me realize something that I should have known several hours ago. As long as there is someone—anyone at all—that still wants you around, isn't that enough reason to keep going?

"I gotta talk to Bill," I explained.

The drummer nodded, then released me from his grip. I strode over to Bill's room and cautiously knocked on the door. After the way Bill last treated me, I expected the worst.

When I didn't get a negative response, I slowly opened the door, which whined as it swung on its hinges. "Bill?"

The singer sat on his bed, still as a statue, just like in the hospital. His eyes—still bloodshot in the aftermath of tears— looked as if they were staring into another universe, and I wondered if he heard me come in.

"It stopped," he said suddenly.

I raised an eyebrow. "What stopped?"

Bill turned to look at me. "The image of one of my dreams is fading, the one with Gustav. Is he talking now?"

"He…he was," I hesitated, unsure about whether or not Gustav actually wanted people knowing.

The black-haired man smiled, though it looked forced. "I'd love to hear his voice again, if I could."

Bill seemed to be in a better mood, and I wanted more than anything to wrap him in a hug and fall asleep with him. But I stayed put; I didn't know how he'd react by me moving closer, and no one had been able to sleep through the night with Tom's death.

As if Bill had read my mind, he leaned over and started groaning.

"Bill? Are you alright?" I asked.

The singer pressed his fingers to his temples. "I'm gonna be sick…"

It was at that moment that I found reason to get closer to Bill. I walked over to his bed, only to be shoved out of the way as the man suddenly sprang up and darted for the hallway.

I chased after him, and my nostrils were hit by a sharp, acrid stench. The bathroom door was open, and Bill was bent over with his face in the toilet. He grunted each time something came up, and in between he gasped for breath. Horrified, I stepped into the tiny bathroom and shut the door. It was cramped, but I somehow managed to squeeze myself in the corner and stroke Bill's back as he coughed up a rancid mouthful of bile.

"I think we're all shaken by what has happened," I whispered. "I just want you to know that I'm still here. Until everything is sorted out, nothing you say can make me leave."

"Thank you, Holly," Bill whispered in between deep breaths. "And I'm sorry for what I said out in the forest. I need you now more than ever, and so does Tom. He doesn't believe me when I say that his life is in serious danger; I'm powerless. I really need your help."

I suddenly stood back up. "Wait…Tom's still alive?"

The singer looked at me questioningly. "Yeah…what do you think, he died?"

There was a stunned silence, and panic welled inside me. Finally, I said: "I gotta find Tom."

"Whoa, hey!" Bill barked, struggling to a stand. "If you try to sneak out again, Tobi will make you tomorrow's lunch!"

"Better me than Tom," I called behind me as I ran out the front door.

Blind panic took me back behind the hospital building, and it only intensified when I heard what sounded like a ruckus. I wanted to believe it was just a couple of thugs, but then I heard Tom's unmistakable voice.

"_Geliebte_, why are you doing this!" the guitarist screamed.

"Haven't you figured it out?" The girl's voice sounded so much more demonic than last time, and I felt a chill when I heard it. "I hate Tokio Hotel! I've been trying to kill you for the past several days! I'll finally succeed, and hopefully pluck off your friends one by one!"

Tom gasped, and his breathing became uneven. "You lied to me! _Gott_, why didn't I believe Bill? He was right about everything he accused you of! And I didn't listen…"

"Shut up and die!"

I couldn't hide anymore. I sprinted around the corner, where a dark-haired woman about my age had a huge knife raised directly over Tom's chest. I wasted no time; the girl had only enough time for one looked at me before I tackled her and knocked her away from the guitarist.

"Tom, run!" I shouted.

The twin, dizzy with confusion, sprang to his feet and bolted. The madwoman struggled beneath me for several moments before I released her and sprinted faster than I had ever run in my life towards the tour bus.

-Bill Kaulitz-

More images faded from my memory as I leaned over the toilet bowl. My distant dream with Tom and the girl that tried to kill him immediately played before my eyes, then died away into the farthest reaches of my mind. Now the only dream that stood up front was the one that Holly didn't even know about—the one where she kissed me.

When I'm sure my stomach was done flushing bile out through my mouth, I got up and flushed the toilet a few times. There was nothing left in me, but I couldn't dream of eating. I didn't know where Holly was, or what she was doing. But with another rescue dream leaving me, it might have been good.

I jumped in surprise as Holly burst through the door, heaving deep and panicked breaths and collapsing on the floor of the bus.

I wrapped my arms around the girl's waist and helped her to the kitchen table. "Holly, what happened?"

"I think I can explain."

I whirled around in shock; standing before me was none other than Tom. "T-Tommy…"

"What's going _on_ here?" Tobi roared as he came out of the living room. "Tom, what are you doing out of the hospital?"

"_Bitte_, Tobi, let me explain," Tom pleaded. "But first, I have to talk to Bill."

The bodyguard sighed, exasperated, but allowed Tom to take me to his room. We sat on his bed, and he looked up at me with heartbroken eyes.

"Did…did she…"

"Yes," Tom replied. "She attacked me." I realized my brother's voice was hoarse, and his eyes were sparkly with tears. "How could I have been so wrong?"

"It's not your fault, Tommy," I whispered. "These things happen to people like us."

"It _is_ my fault," my brother argued. "If I believed you, none of this would have happened. I'm such an idiot!" He broke down into a fit of pitiful sobs, and I laid an arm around him. "I can't believe I wanted to leave the band and settle down with her. She wanted to kill me all along!"

I rested my chin on Tom's shoulder and whispered: "Tom, please understand that there's no shame in having a girlfriend. In all those interviews where I said that going steady with a girl is out of the question, I was only speaking from my beliefs. If you or Georg or Gustav find a girl and fall in love with her, go for it. But please, next time don't let her get between you and the band. We need you. I need you."

Tom nodded, then wrapped his arms around my waist and started rubbing my back. "_Ich leibe dich, mein bruder_."

I returned my brother's hug. "I love you, too, Tom."


	14. The Final Dream

**Chapter 14**

-Bill Kaulitz-

Everyone was seated around the kitchen table for breakfast (even though it was three in the afternoon). No one got adequate sleep; it was already nearly two a.m. by the time Holly brought Tom back. We slept as much as we could, but we'd need some miracle to wake us up enough to do the show that night.

Fruit, sandwich ingredients and condiments were laid out for us. Having vomited my insides out the night before, I was famished. I devoured three sandwiches before the others could start eating one.

"Don't eat too much," Tobi warned. "Your show is in another couple hours."

But it was too late. My stomach felt like it was about to burst, and I thought I might fall asleep again. "Do we have any Red Bull?"

"There might be some in the fridge," Georg replied.

As I cradled a small aluminum can of the caffeine-filled drink in my hand, I dared a glance over at Tom. He was eating willingly for the first time in months, and I noticed a glow in his eyes that reminded me of when he was younger; how stupid of me to think that his hair's transformation from dreadlocks to cornrows could have caused such a dramatic change. The carefree teenager of a brother that I once knew was always in there; it just took some time to bring him back to the surface.

"So Bill," Georg said suddenly, "have any more of your dreams come true?"

"Yeah," I replied. "The one with Gustav and the one with Tom."

Georg thought for a moment. "Well, I can see how the one with Tom came true. But what about Gustav's dream? You said his mouth was sealed in duct tape. What happened to the whole hostage situation? I know he was here the whole time."

"Maybe it wasn't a hostage situation," I suggested. "Right when the dream faded from my memory, Holly told me that Gustav talked to her."

The bassist raised an eyebrow, then turned to Gustav. "You…_talked_?"

All eyes were on the drummer, who looked embarrassed by the sudden wave of attention. He opened his mouth in hesitation, and the incredible happened. His lips started moving, and I heard his voice for the first time in about half a year. "D-Dreams aren't always so straightforward. Sometimes they just drop random hints for you to figure out."

My mouth pulled back into a smile, and Georg threw his massive arms around his friend. Even Tobi was beaming, despite his usual demeanor of not expressing happiness. We all might as well have been cheering and applauding as if Gustav had said his first words ever.

"So maybe the dreams weren't foretelling a hostage situation," Holly interrupted. "Maybe they were just saying that I could help Gustav talk again."

"You really helped me out," Gustav agreed. "Thank you, Holly."

"I think she has helped all of us out," Georg added in. He turned to the girl and said: "If it weren't for you, Holly, I would have died. I owe you my life; I don't think I can thank you enough."

"I guess it's my turn," Tom figured. "Thank you, Holly. I'm so grateful; I'll thank you in three other languages. _Danke. Gracias. Merci_. Not only did you save my life, you saved me from a girl crazier than all our fangirls combined. And you helped me realize just how important Bill is in my life." My brother looked at me and smiled, and my half that had previously died was now brimming with life.

"Now the only dream Holly has to fulfill is Bill's," Georg said.

I shot a warning glance toward the bassist, but he didn't seem to catch it.

Holly's eyebrows creased. "Bill didn't have a dream where I helped him."

"Yes he did," Tom protested. "It was the one where…" With scared eyes, Tom saw me glaring at him and fell silent.

The brunette girl turned to me. "Bill, is there something you're not telling me?"

I sighed. "I didn't think it was important."

"Your dreams have saved lives," she protested. "If I save you in a dream, shouldn't you tell me?"

I pressed my fingers to my temples. "Look, if the dream is meant to become a reality, it'll work itself out. But I really don't think I should tell you."

Holly started to look concerned, and lay a hand on my knee. "Why not?"

As if on cue, Tobi announced: "Alright, guys, finish up. We gotta get backstage in less than an hour."

The band members scattered, retreating to their rooms to get dressed for the show. I felt bad leaving Holly without an explanation, but it was for the better. I couldn't let her know we kissed; where would that lead? My guess was either a relationship or a huge awkward moment, both of which I was trying to stay away from. Besides, how was such a dream supposed to save Tokio Hotel?

Despite my doubt, the scene continued to play not only before my eyes, but through every nerve in my body. My lips tingled with a subconscious presence of Holly's, and I felt a weight on my shoulders as if her hands were there. I felt numb with a mixture of pleasure, confusion, denial and frustration, and wondered if there must be some meaning to the dream—any at all.

-Holly Wainright-

I sat on my couch and hugged my knees. Why wouldn't Bill tell me his dream? Was it something personal? Was it bad?

My heart skipped a beat. Maybe I died in his dream.

I rested my head on my knees, my heart thudding wildly. That _has_ to be it. I saw the fear in his eyes when he refused to tell me. I weighed other options, but death seemed like the only logical explanation. Suddenly all I could think about was how Christie would react to my not coming back to school, and how she would feel once the news arrived that I had somehow died in Germany.

I found myself shivering as my thoughts grew scarier. I didn't want to die; I had so much to live for. My life had just begun; I couldn't let it all fall apart.

I heard mixed voices near the entrance to the bus; the band must have gotten ready to leave for the concert. Could this be the last time the band sees me alive?


	15. Taking the Plunge

**Chapter 15**

-Bill Kaulitz-

For the first time in months, Tokio Hotel seemed lively and ready for another concert. Gustav jumped up and down with his drumsticks in hand, pumped full of energy. Georg paced eagerly around, the neck of his bass grasped tightly in his fist. Tom had set his guitar off to the side to sit beside me on the couch; he leaned in so that his arm pressed against mine, effectively restoring the link between us that had been broken for so long. Finally, I could feel my brother's energy, and I could tell he felt mine.

Tom turned his head to face me. "This is how things should be, Billa. How could I have been so wrong?"

I felt a wave of delight. Tom was even calling me by my nickname again.

"T-Tommy," I hesitated. "I'm not trying to pin any blame on you, but I really missed you. I felt like I had lost my brother forever when you were dating that chick."

My twin's face turned grim. "I know, me too. I promise I'll never let a girl get between us again." Suddenly, he looked like he was on the verge of tears. "Oh, Bill, I'm so sorry! I know I was being cold, but I felt like I had lost you as well. But I had no idea I was causing it; my girlfriend brainwashed me into thinking you were trying to steal me away from her! How could I have been so stupid? Billa, please forgive me. I wasn't thinking when I said I hated you. You're the best brother a guy can have; if I could have just one person, it would be you, not some girl. I love you."

I looked into my brother's soft eyes. "I forgive you no matter what stupid things you do." Tom gave an amused smirk, and I continued. "I love you, too, Tommy."

Tom smiled, happy that his apology had been accepted. "I owe everything to Holly. If she hadn't been there…" My brother shuddered, and I threw an arm around him. "But I owe you, too, Bill. You were the one that convinced Holly to come with us in the first place. If she had stayed behind, half the band would be dead by now."

I nodded. "About Holly…should I tell her what happened in the dream? I mean, I don't want her to kiss me for real. Even if she does have feelings for me, I just can't have a girlfriend right now. But the dream has been bothering me, so it must be important." I planted my face in my hands. "_Gott_, what do I do?"

Gustav, who had been listening close by, spoke up. "How do you know Holly will start dating you? In fact, how do you know she'll even kiss you?"

I looked up at the drummer. "Well, I don't know; I had a dream where—"

"It was just a dream," he explained. "Dreams aren't always so straightforward. There's usually some hidden meaning to them that you have to figure out based on the hints."

"Well, what could it mean, then?" I asked.

The blond man shrugged. "Only time will tell."

-Holly Wainright-

Once again, the doors were closed and I was all alone. But it was different this time; the theory of my death had become an obsession, and it was eating me alive. I couldn't get over the feeling that I was going to die within the next hour. Logic told me I was being completely and utterly stupid, but something deeper told me that something horrible was about to happen to me.

I dared a peek out the bus window, as if expecting to see Bill coming back for me. I knew deep down that I wanted him to be here with me for my last breath, and I was secretly frustrated with him for not staying behind with me.

I sighed. My better judgment got a hold of me, and was able to tell me that moping around on the couch about it wasn't going to solve anything. I heaved myself off my makeshift bed and walked into the kitchen. I opened up the fridge and took out a can of Sprite, but I found more pleasure in cradling it in my hands than drinking it. After a few minutes, I realized my legs were taking me toward Bill's room. I suppose I figured if I can't have my singer, at least I could surround myself in his stuff.

There was a large, unkempt bed across from the door, and a wardrobe in the corner. Curious, I opened the doors to the wardrobe, and I was greeted by Bill's sweet aroma. The singer's clothes were neatly hung and lined inside the massive container; there were leather jackets—fake leather, Bill says, as he hates wearing real animal hides—and next to them were a queue of coat hangers with skinny jeans and T-shirts neatly slung over them.

Bill also had a dresser and vanity mirror, which was littered with hairspray and makeup. I only looked over that for a few seconds before turning back towards the door, where I spotted a laundry hamper with a mountain of clothes in it.

I was tingling with adrenaline as I walked once around my singer's room, but after a while I started to feel like a stalker. I remembered Bill hated stalkers with a passion, ever since a group of fangirls followed him and Tom home and attacked their mom, and later some girls attacked Tom at a gas station and he hit one of them, causing the guitarist to get charged with assault.

Panic burned inside me, and quickly I ran out of the singer's room and shut the door. Breathing heavily, I staggered away from the bedroom hallway and felt relieved that I hadn't touched anything; what he doesn't know won't hurt him.

I stepped out of the tour bus for a quick walk. I wasn't quite sure why; perhaps I decided to have some peaceful time to myself since none of the band members were around. I noticed a river not far away and, glancing carefully from side to side to make sure no one saw me, I stepped out of the parking lot where the tour bus was being held and strode quietly toward the water.

I leaned over the railing on the bridge, overlooking the river. Despite the cars shuffling by, I felt like I had been subjected to a quiet, tranquil state. I became mesmerized at the water, which slowly snaked past the bridge, and was occasionally stirred by a boat rushing past. The sky was dim, and I found myself relying on street lights to watch the water move.

Suddenly, I was snapped from my trance by the blaring of a horn. My adrenaline exploded when I saw two bright headlights coming toward me; a car had evidently strayed off the road and swerved in my direction.

Mind racing, I leapt over the railing and started plummeting toward the river. There was a huge crash, and my entire front stung as I belly-flopped into the water. Gasping, flailing, fighting for air, I remembered the inevitable: I couldn't swim.

_This is it_, I thought. _This is my untimely death_.

-Bill Kaulitz-

The moment the lights disappeared and the screaming fans faded into silence, I was hit by a sudden wave of nausea. I bent over and expected to throw up again, but my entire body tingled when I stopped moving.

"Bill, are you okay?" Tom asked, looking down at me with concern in his face.

"Something's wrong," I explained. I sprinted toward the tour bus and threw open the door. "Holly, we're back! Are you here?"

Dead silence. Just as I suspected.

"Bill, what's gotten into you?" Georg asked when he caught up with me.

"Holly's missing!" I yelled frantically.

"Again!" Georg barked. "Where'd that girl go now?"

Without thinking, I bolted. After running out the back of the parking lot, the nearby river came into view. The day had grown dark, but I could just make out a figure standing on the sidewalk of the bridge, apparently watching the water. Every instinct told me it was Holly.

In an instant, I heard a car horn ring through the night; it was the worst sound I had ever heard. My heart skipped a beat when Holly got spooked and flung herself over the ledge, plunging into the river below.

"_OH MEIN GOTT_!" I sprinted as fast as I possibly could toward the bridge; I noticed Holly had resurfaced, but she was clearly struggling to keep herself above water. I felt like I was out of options; I jumped the railing like a hurdle and dove into the freezing river. "Hang on, Holly! I'm coming!"


	16. The Last Night

**Chapter 16**

-Bill Kaulitz-

It felt like the longest swim of my life. Pure adrenaline fueled my muscles as I thrust myself closer to Holly, splashing water all around me. My makeup was ruined, and my Mohawk fell into my face as I moved through the water. But I pressed on; Holly was all I cared about at the moment.

Suddenly, Holly disappeared. The river swallowed her up, and her flailing died to nothing. Heart racing, I shook my head in disbelief and dove underwater. I just barely saw Holly's pale outline, and pushed myself mercilessly through the water. When I felt her smooth skin, I embraced her by her waist and hoisted her up to the surface. Her head hung limply over my shoulder as I desperately made my way to the shore.

I laid Holly out on the bank and caught my breath, but I knew my work was not done yet. Holly was completely unconscious and I wasn't sure I had saved her in time. I hovered my hand over her face, but I couldn't feel any breath. When I pressed my head to her chest, I couldn't feel a heartbeat. She was ice-cold; I wanted to believe it was from the freezing river, but there was another possibility, one that brought tears to my eyes.

"No," I whispered aloud. "Don't die, Holly! _Sterben nicht_!"

Out of desperation, I slapped her face a few times in an attempt to wake her up, but her body was completely limp. Everything became blurry and distorted, and the surrounding noises faded to an eerie silence. I felt so selfish; an innocent American girl came all the way to Germany to help Tokio Hotel, only to be led to her death.

I shook my head furiously. "_Nein_! Holly, don't die!" I looked down at the lifeless body of the brunette girl. "_Bitte_, Holly. Don't leave me…"

Without warning, everything went dark. A scene played before my eyes, one that seemed awfully familiar. I was in my room, and Holly sat on my bed. Once I sat beside the girl, I realized that it was the dream where Holly kissed me. But something came back to me as the dream repeated itself to me, something I had completely overlooked. I suddenly remembered Holly's words right before she leaned in.

_Your lips need to serve another purpose right now._

My eyes popped open. When I looked back down at Holly—whose skin was now slightly tinged with blue—I understood. My eyes widened at the realization of what the dream really meant; my subconscious wasn't predicting a relationship with Holly, it was saying I had to give her the kiss of life!

I wasted no time; I pinched Holly's tiny nose shut with my thumb and forefinger on one hand while I used my other hand to pull her jaw open. Carefully, I opened my own mouth and laid it over that of the girl. I pushed air out of my lungs and into hers, filling her body with life.

Holly stiffened, and I pulled away as she started coughing and spluttering, a small mouthful of water spilling out of her mouth. After cocking her head from side to side in a brief confusion, she started breathing heavily. As I watched in total shock, I felt the fourth and final dream disappear into the farthest corner of my mind, and my head felt clear for the first time in years.

"Holly…" I muttered. "Are you okay?"

The girl looked up at me, panic still lingering in her eyes. "Bill…what happened?"

I heard the sound of running feet pounding above me, and several figures were racing down the shallow cliff toward us. I recognized the one up front as Tobi, and Tom and the G's were hot on his heels.

"What happened?" Tobi demanded. "What's going on?"

"Holly fell in the river," I explained. "I got her out, but I don't know if there are any lasting effects."

"The least we can do is get her back to the tour bus," Georg explained.

I nodded, then turned back to the girl. "Holly, can you stand up?"

"I th-think s-so." Shaking, Holly pushed herself to a stand, but I heard a repetitive clicking noise coming from her that sounded like teeth chattering. When I took her hand in mine, I flinched; it was like holding a block of ice.

"Holly, you're freezing," I pointed out.

"Here," Tom said, pulling his oversized jacket off and draping it over Holly's shoulders.

Holly pulled Tom's sweatshirt around her tightly; on her tiny frame, my brother's baggy clothes were big enough to be blankets. With an arm around her waist, I led her back to the tour bus with the others following close behind. Once inside, I helped Holly settle down on her couch while the others snuck peeks from the kitchen.

"Holly…" I mumbled. "I think I should tell you what the last dream was about." Holly looked at me with blatant curiosity, so I continued. "In the final dream, you…you kissed me. I didn't want to tell you because I was afraid that it would lead to a relationship; I had no idea it would save your life."

There was a brief silence, then Holly spoke up. "Well, like Gustav had been saying, dreams aren't always blatant with their meanings. They're meant to be figured out on your own. But I can't blame you; I might have thought the same thing."

I found what I was about to say next a little difficult to carry out, but she had to know. "And about that dream, when I revived you…it vanished; it was fulfilled. And that was the final dream."

Holly looked up at me, sadness in her eyes; she knew exactly what this meant.

"I'll really miss you, Holly," I assured her.

The girl sighed, then leaned her head against my chest. The living room was suddenly filled with unspoken sadness as we sat there, together, for the last time. Holly had done so much for me and my friends; I felt like I wasn't given enough time to repay her.

"You've done so much for us," I continued. "I don't think we'll ever be able to make it up to you."

"You already have," she answered. "You guys might not realize it, but spending four days with Tokio Hotel is a godsend to so many people. Just getting to be here with you…I don't think I'll ever get a better opportunity."

I still felt unsure. "My career would have been destroyed if not for you, Holly. And more importantly, my friends would be dead. We owe our lives to you."

"You just saved my life in the river," she argued. "Now we're even. Bill, we've done things for each other this past few days; I wasn't doing all the work. And besides, if I stick around too long, the others might get suspicious."

I realized she had a point. Tobi never really trusted Holly, and it might not go down with him well that we had been stalling to keep her on the tour bus. Besides, the media might eventually find out that we had been keeping her with us, and I didn't want to know how that would go down. "Okay. I'll tell Tobi we're taking you to the airport tomorrow morning."

I had a discussion with Tobi and the plan was set. We would travel to the airport the following day, just long enough to send Holly on her way and make our way toward our next concert. Until then, we made it to the hotel to spend the night.

I lay awake in agony on top of my bed, unable to sleep. So much had happened in the first few days that it seemed so unreal. I expected any minute to wake up in another hotel, for the whole affair to just be a continuation of the strange dreams I had had about that brunette girl. How could such a girl that my subconscious had been telling me about for three years have made my dreams a reality in a matter of days? Everything that had happened since I first met Holly two years before suddenly came flooding back to me; the entire story played before my eyes in fast motion: I signed Holly's drawing, then Holly showed up at our concert in Germany, saved Georg's life, encouraged Gustav to talk, and saved Tom's life. But the most vivid memory was one that happened just hours ago: I saved Holly's life.

That brunette girl had done so much for my friends. However, the more I thought about it, the more I became aware that she did something for me as well. For a while, I had thought that the dream in which Holly kissed me was only symbolic of how I saved her. But after a bit of pondering, I realized that she had helped me as much as she had helped the rest of the band. She was always there, whenever I needed her. She was there for support when Tom had isolated himself from me. Even after I had given up and told her to go home, she stood by me until I was successfully reunited with my brother. What a girl…what a friend…what a thoughtful person—and yet I had only known her for days. She couldn't leave; not now…

I heard a light knock on my door, and I pushed myself out of bed and stumbled over to answer it. Standing there in the hallway was none other than Holly, wearing a t-shirt and short shorts—typical college girl pajamas.

"Bill…" she whispered, "I can't sleep; you've been on my mind all night. Would it be okay if…" She seemed to grow hesitant, and lowered her head shyly.

I stepped aside. "Come on in."

The girl looked up at me, eyes sparkling, and walked into my room. Once I shut the door, I climbed back into bed and yanked the covers over my slender body. Holly followed me, crawling under the sheets and huddling up against me. I felt as if I had melted; there was such a relaxing sensation to it. Is this what I had been missing all those years without a girlfriend?

I shook my head. Even the best reasons were not enough for me to devote my life to a girl—at least, not now; not as long as I was traveling the world in a band. Nonetheless, I decided it was probably okay—just this once—and my arm slithered around Holly's waist, pulling her close. Our faces were within a centimeter of each other, and I fell asleep in an instant.


	17. Saying Goodbye

**Chapter 17**

-Bill Kaulitz-

The day was bright and sunny, an ironic scene to such a dramatic moment. A massive plane stood on a huge field of asphalt, eager to take to the skies. Soldiers flocked around it in a sea of dark blue, bidding a hard farewell to their wives and children.

I stood among that crowd, dressed in a blue army suit with my hair—which was usually erect in a Mohawk—flattened against my scalp. Atop my head sat a cap that matched my suit, and enveloping my feet were tight, brown army boots. Holly was in my arms, tears sparkling in her eyes against the bright sun. I didn't know what war I was going to, but I had a feeling in my gut that I wouldn't return, and the brunette girl was sobbing as if she knew something that I didn't know.

I held Holly close and rocked her back and forth. "It's okay, babe. I'll be back soon."

Holly sniffled. "No, Bill. This is the end. You must learn to let go."

I raised an eyebrow. "How do you know?"

"Our time has ended, Bill," the girl replied. "I can't be a part of your life anymore. Keep me in your memories, but do not chase me; I will be long gone. Farewell, Bill Kaulitz."

I felt Holly's grip on me weakening, and out of panic I grasped her shoulders. "Please, Holly! Don't leave me! I'm begging you…"

The girl leaned in close. "Bill…don't be afraid. Our time has ended, and another has begun. Please, don't take it so hard. You'll be fine; I made sure of it." For a second time, Holly detached herself from my arms and started backing up.

"Wait! What do you mean?" I shouted desperately. But Holly had disappeared from sight, and I was swallowed by the blue sea of soldiers boarding the plane.

I was practically shoved through the door of the airplane, but the interior of the vehicle was nothing like I was expecting. I realized that I was inside Tokio Hotel's private jet. Tom, Georg and Gustav lay sprawled over the couches; their eyes were on me, inviting me to sit down. When I plopped down on the couch next to Tom, I realized that I was no longer wearing a dark blue army uniform, but my usual t-shirt and skinny jeans.

"Good to see you again," my brother said, smiling at me. "We thought we lost you."

"Where did I go?" I asked. But before my twin could answer, I woke up.

My eyelids eased open, carefully as to not become blinded by the morning light filtering in through the cracks in the curtains. When I sat up, I noticed that Holly and I were sprawled on the complete opposite sides of the bed, contrary to the previous night. And strangely, I was okay with it; any more-than-friends feelings that I may have been developing for her were completely gone. Did my dream have something to do with it?

After squirming out of bed, I made my way to the bathroom for a quick shower. As the warm water ran down my smooth, pale skin, I feeling of relief washed over me, as if I were being cleansed of some tension that I never knew was there.

As I fixed my hair into a Mohawk, I heard footsteps outside the bathroom, a sign that Holly was awake and about. It seemed bittersweet that we were taking her to the airport soon, and this was the last time I would see her. But strangely, I didn't feel sad about it; I hardly even cared. That dream I had…something about it allowed me to detach myself from her, let her go.

We made our way downstairs for breakfast and met up with the rest of the band in the dining room. The room was filled with the delectable smells of fresh-cooked food that the caterers had set out for us. Holly and I each grabbed a plate and collected our share, then strode over to the table to sit with the G's, who were already tearing away at scrambled eggs and fried potatoes.

I sat at the table with Holly next to me, and Tom came over to settle on my other side. I saw a warm glow in his eyes that was completely concealed last time we ate in a hotel; it was also the first time in a long time that he sat at the same table as everyone else, let alone right beside me. I was starting to truly believe we were friends again.

"So Holly," Georg said with a mouthful of food, "I hear you fulfilled the final dream."

"I guess I did," Holly thought. "I don't know how, though."

"I do," I explained, recounting the story of how I rescued the girl and revived her.

"So the dream where you kissed her was foretelling how you would use CPR to save her life," Gustav realized. "So technically, Holly didn't fulfill the dream; Bill did."

I looked at my friend in shock. I never thought of that; unlike the previous dreams that were all Holly, I made my own dream a reality the last time around. Was it my way of repaying her for what she has done?

"Alright guys, eat up," Tobi announced. "We leave in an hour to get Holly to the airport."

The room soon fell silent; the only sounds to be heard were the clanging of silverware against the plates as everyone dug in. I couldn't tell if the mood was melancholy, or just dull. Either way, I could tell that Holly would be missed; my friends couldn't thank her enough for what she has done no matter how much they tried, and now she was leaving before they even had time to show adequate gratitude anyhow.

When breakfast was finished, everyone made for the tour bus. Holly requested a stop at a hotel she had settled into before she met us at the concert to pick up her stuff, and we helped her carry in suitcases and stash them in the living room. Once everything was set, we made for the airport and emotionally prepared ourselves for our final farewells.

-Holly Wainright-

When I opened up my purse, I pulled out my phone and decided to call Christy, tell her I was coming home. Suddenly, I got an idea that stretched a smile across my face.

"Hey guys," I called out. "Come here a second." Bill, Tom and the G's gathered around me with confused expressions, and I explained my plan. "I'm going to call my dorm partner, Christie, and tell her I'm coming home. She's a real fan of you guys so I want to give her a chance to talk to you."

The band members exchanged glances, ginning willingly. Bill turned to me and said: "Okay."

I put my phone on speaker and called Christie. After a few long buzzes, I heard a click and my friend's familiar voice. "Hello?"

"Hey, Christie," I replied. "It's Holly. I'm on my way back from Germany."

"Hey, girl," Holly greeted. "So how was it? Did you meet Tokio Hotel?"

My body tingled with excited anticipation. "I did. In fact, they're with me here now."

"What? No way; quit pulling my leg."

"I'm not," I insisted. "Here they are."

Bill took the cue. "Hey, Christie, this is Bill. Holly really helped us out over the last few days; she has quite a story to tell you when she makes it back to the states."

Tom spoke next. "Hey, Christie, Tom here. I can't thank Holly enough for what she has done with the time she was with us."

"Hey, it's Georg. You won't believe this, but Holly saved my life. Enough said."

"Hey, Christie, I'm Gustav. She has done so much for us in a matter of days, and we'll really miss her when she leaves." The drummer smirked. "You're really lucky to have such a friend as Holly. She's so kind and gentle and considerate…"

The room grew silent, then Christie spoke up. "Oh my god, Holly. You can't be serious! Am I speaking to Tokio Hotel right now? Like for real?"

"I can take a picture as proof if you like," I suggested. "In the meantime, if there's anything you want to tell them, now's the time."

After a while, my dorm partner screamed: "I LOVE YOU, BILL!"

The singer laughed, then responded: "Thank you."

The airport came into view, and I decided to wrap it up. "Okay, Christie. I'll call you when I get back."

"Talk to you later," Christie said, hanging up.

I slapped my phone shut, then looked at the band to see them staring at me expectantly. Tom asked: "You said something about a picture?"

I smiled. "You guys will do that for me?"

"It's the least we could do for you," Bill explained.

Gratefully, I opened my phone back up and readied the camera. After summoning Tobi over, I instructed him how to take a photo and posed with the band. After a few pictures were taken, I saved them to my phone as carefully as if they were treasured artifacts.

There was something so ironic about being in the airport, walking through the huge corridors lined with restaurants and shops. Just a few days ago, I strode through these very hallways, excited adrenaline burning within my veins. Now, I felt as if I were melting as bittersweet emotions enveloped my entire body.

"Flight 427 boarding in fifteen minutes," the intercom announced. I looked down at my ticket and realized the number matched.

At the boarding section, I took a seat in one of the chairs and waited. Bill sat next to me, glancing around nervously at the surrounding people. Although he wore baggy clothes, large sunglasses and a fitted cap to keep hidden, there was still no telling whether or not someone would see through his disguise.

It was the shortest and hardest fifteen minutes of my life. When the time finally came, the gates opened and people started lining up.

"I guess that's me," I said, standing up.

Bill pushed to a stand to give me one last hug. "Goodbye, Holly. I can't say enough how much you mean to Tokio Hotel."

"This doesn't have to be goodbye," I explained. "Maybe I'll visit you guys again sometime, and convince Tobi to sneak me on the tour bus." With a smirk on my face, I winked at the singer.

Bill grinned. "You better visit. And when you do, maybe I'll take you to some famous landmarks throughout Europe. He leaned in and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Promise me you'll visit us again sometime."

I nodded.

The singer's smile couldn't have gotten bigger, and it was surprisingly familiar. "It's a promise. We'll meet again."


	18. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

-Holly Wainright-

My normal, average life returned as if nothing had happened. Christie flipped out when I showed her the pictures of me with the band, but other than that, nothing changed.

When I reached my senior year, I was cleaning my stuff out of my dorm when I found a dusty sketchbook among some long lost things in the closet. When I opened it up, I saw a picture of two boys—twin brothers—and a million old memories and emotions flooded to the surface after being forgotten for so long. The signatures scribbled over the picture were still as visible as if they were signed yesterday, and I remembered the promise I had made to Bill.

I traveled to Germany once for him because of a promise, I would do it again. Someday…

-Bill Kaulitz-

Tokio Hotel was as lively as ever. Tom was jamming his guitar as if his life depended on it, and Georg was just as energetic with his bass. Gustav pummeled his drums, and I skipped around stage as the songs fueled me and carried me to another world.

The fans' screaming could be heard all the way from the limo, even after we hit the road. Another successful concert had just finished, and we could only get better at our next performance.

At the hotel, Tom came into my room to hang out. I lay sprawled on the massive soft bed, watching TV. Out of the corner of my eye I saw my brother rooting curiously through pictures on my laptop; I heard the clicking of the mouse stop and I turned my head toward him. His eyes were wide.

"Bill, you still have this?"

"What?" I asked.

My brother turned my laptop so that I could see, and I was hit by a wave of old memories. It was a picture of a girl among me and Tom and Georg and Gustav; I quickly recognized the young woman as Holly. She had emailed us the picture she had taken of us after she returned to the US.

"This is Holly, isn't it?" Tom guessed. "I'd really like to see her again."

"She promised me she'd visit," I explained. "And since she went to as much trouble to come to Germany because of a promise once, I'm certain we'll see her again. It'll happen one day—and maybe I'll have more dreams about her until then."

* * * The End * * *


End file.
